Indeed, the rumours were true. Arthur felt the pleasant warm glow of being able to judge someone. Oh yes, he knew her father had a poor constitution, and perhaps that had made him more lenient, but her mother surely should have stopped it. So much wealth. So well-bred. And here they were, tearing down their good reputation. Arthur could not fathom what had gotten into them, but he felt as fascinated as he felt appalled. Even families richer than his could still prove that in the end, they were just wealthy commoners who could fall from the social ladder. Arthur wondered if this was just the first step. He would watch closely, from a safe distance.

"Is that so?" he asked, in a surprised tone as if this was the first time he heard of it. "Not on your own, I hope? The town itself can be rough with all the poor and drunkards that live there. Hardly the place for a young lady like yourself. I do hope you are staying in a good neighbourhood?" Not in one of those godforsaken yards with open drains and shared toilet houses and tiny damp cottages, where you'd catch consumption upon entering. If ever there would be money left in the local budget, Arthur intended to press for tearing down those yards and building decent housing.