Evelyn didn't want to be there. She was alright with people in her mind, but most seemed to find her a little strange. Her brother insisted she went to the dance to meet people. He had her interest at heart, she wasn't getting any younger. Finding a husband, especially someone who could respect her work, would be great because that's what every woman wanted, right? She supposed so.

That's why she listened to him and went to the dance. She had nothing to wear as it was sacrilegious to wear her Sunday best for the dance, so she had borrowed a dress from an older neighbor who no longer needed it. With a little mending and some hemming to make it fit well, and she had a blue and grey number that was formal and fun enough for such a place. It was as exciting as mud but so was she, her brothers had teasingly told her when she was younger. She reveled in it as who needed to be thrilling? It sounded exhausting.

She found a nice and quiet corner and grabbed herself a drink to keep her company through the evening.

Bert was still pondering what drink to have, lemonade or cider, sweet or stimulating? Decisions, decisions. He was off duty, so he could take a drop or two. Still, his warrant card was in his pocket if things really got out of hand, not to mention people may simply recognise his face as that of the law. As he considered all of this, he saw Dee in the crowd and his face brightened. She looked lovely. Bert you lucky boy. Dressed finer than he, she was.

"Evening." Bert began, fighting poorly to hide a blossoming smile. She did that to him. "I think we've met before, haven't we?" He playfully suggested they were practical strangers to each other.

"Aye, over some sweets." She grinned and smiled up at Bertie with all the warmth of the sun. She was so very happy to see her man that her heart beat so very quickly against her ribcage that she thought it would burst out. Dee grinned and said, "Tis happy I am ta see ye. Ye look very fine indeed." The compliment was an honest one from her to him.

“A dream?” He grinned as a blush filled his cheeks and he shook his head, “I wouldn’t say I’m a dream, but with as many younger sisters as I have…I have practiced well.” He kept her close, out of habit and out of protection, as with all that he kept close he made sure that they were not to be lost.

“I don’t think I’m still invited to that one,” He admitted about the charity ball, “ Though my mother would not be far from Lady McKenna. She is her house manager and closest friend, I am sure between the two of them they would have liked to see me there.’

‘I take it your brother is much the same then? That is why you are here?”

Aslan caught a glimpse of Miss Griffin as his gaze wandered, Ernest juggling knives and yakking to an unimpressed associate beside him. He stepped away from both the precariously flying knives and Miss Griffin, though kept her in the corner of his eye.

Evelyn remained standing alone off to the side, and merely looked at the spectacle beside her. She hadn't seen him and seemed to not have much interest in catching anyone's eyes. She was used to being alone, and didn't expect to see anyone who'd want to see her. She wasn't even there by choice, she'd been told to go so she went. The woman was prepared to spend the entire evening standing in the same spot as an animated statue.

Luckily, she wasn't alone for long as Nisa came to her and began to speak to her. Insistent on proving to her brother she could speak to people. Finding someone else alone, she'd taken her chance quickly.

"I am here to have fun," she said. "My brother is a doctor, a good one at that. Very respectable like." She smiled and was having a blast dancing with Henri. Her eyes sparkled with merriment. "I am glad you are here and not there... I must confess. I am a selfish thing though and you mustn't mind me."

She tilted her head back and chuckled warmly at the man she was dancing with.

One moment he looked away. The next? There was his sister, angel of death, chatting up Miss Griffin. Aslan rolled his neck, did his damnedest to make eye contact with Allah, and stepped further away from Ernest’s knife-juggling antics. Guess he’d have to get involved after all.

“Miss Griffin,” Aslan said, approaching them. “Good to see you here. I see you’ve met my sister, Nisa.”

Anita tapped Menachem’s shoulder even though he was right there and already paying attention, smiling slowly.

“Get a load of this.”

She cleared her throat, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted:

“HEY, JOHN! GET OVER HERE!”

The sound carried, and carried, and carried, even over the loud dancing and conversation. There had to be someone named John and gullible.

Menachem jumped a little at the yell but smiled looking from her to the crowd, wondering who would step up. He saw a few people glance slightly in their direction, but then away. Maybe they weren't 'John' or they recognized him or Anita enough to not want to come over.

"You know how to have fun." He said with a small grin as he leaned back a bit. He wondered if anyone would come for her call. He lightly patted her shoulder. "Sorry I didn't see you before now, Anita. I have been wanting to thank you."