For all the refinement she had shown in her entrance, now Lory scooted up on a knee and tapped her heel for the pleasure of hearing it clack on the floor. She was beautiful, certainly … but at the heart, she was still an easily excitable teenager.

“Yes!” she nodded. “Ouie, Chéri. We are in Whitby,” Ruby confirmed, gesturing wide.

Long … Diamond Pony. That certainly evoked some sort of image, like a horse with too much torso. But she didn’t think that was what he was getting at, so she shook her head.

“No, non,” she shook her head. “Not long at the Diamond Pony. You?” she pointed in emphasis, then added as an afterthought: “tu?”