wanders into the salon for some tea and perhaps a biscuit or two. She slept in until 11:00 this morning, a luxury allowed neither by her parents or Assama. She has on another one of the Cairo creations, this one in dazzling white cotton, falling to her ankles but deliciously light and airy.

She ponders the invitation she recieved from Porcia as she sips her tea on the terrace and surveys the sun-washed blue of the afternoon.

She quirks her eyebrow as she hears French accents in the hall just outside, but her curiosity goes unsatisfied as they simply fade into the distance.

What to wear for an evening party like this? She has never been to an informal cocktail party in a hotel room, but it does sound like the kind of girlish fun she indulged in only a few years ago. A peignoir? Too risqe. Her nightgown was far too Victorian. Hm.. perhaps she could go shopping. That would be fun-but alone? That wasn't really a good idea, was it? She tapped a fingernail on the teacup and nibbled a scone daubed with cream as she thought.