Then she put on one of her plainest dresses, hoping it would make her look professional and arranged her fair hair neatly but not as elaborately as she usually wore it.
She smiled graciously at her reflection before she walked downstairs for breakfast.
It was a French breakfast of croissants and coffee and she was delighted to see that there was a pot of honey on the table – as if to remind her, she thought, that it was to be eaten and not used otherwise!
She was just finishing a second cup of coffee when Higgins came into the room.
“Good mornin’, miss, ’ave you ’ad a good night?”
“Very good, thank you, Higgins, but do I feel rather guilty at being so late and leaving you so much to do.”
Higgins laughed.
“I ain’t done much I can tell you. I’m not touchin’ that there wound now you’v
