Lucielle puffed her hair with both gloved hands while scrutinizing her reflection in the ornate mirror which Marcus had purchased for her from a Chinaman in the Market. She had plead at his arm for hours until he, as is his way, relented and pulled the £300 from his wallet and placed it in the hands of the eager Oriental.

She now found the thing dreadful to look upon, but she had had it placed directly in front of her new vanity earlier that month. As she pursed her lips at herself, she decided that she would have Karl remove it while she was gone. While placing her bonnet delicately upon her perfectly sculpted locks, a hollow knock echoed throughout the house. She inserted three ivory hatpins into her bonnet and stood in front of the garish mirror to inspect her ensemble one final time.

“Maakus, mahdahm,” Karl’s thick accent stumbled up to Lucielle’s room.

“Just a moment, dear, while Karl assembles my luggage,” she sang down to the man below. She smiled brightly at the thought of the train ride ahead.

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