[It's not like she doesn't see Marsh, doesn't talk to him; but it's been rare for him to come to her cabin, rarer still to hear that tone in his voice.
Iris doesn't even think about it: she's halfway through checking herself quickly in the mirror: eye makeup in one piece, nightie and robe not stained or crumpled, no lipstick on her teeth - when she stops short, staring incredulously at her own reflection.]
You daft mare, 'e can't see you.
[She shakes her head at herself and goes to open the door.]
Let me guess, Mira made the perfect souffle? I 'ear that sort of thing can skip a generation.
[spam]
[It's not like she doesn't see Marsh, doesn't talk to him; but it's been rare for him to come to her cabin, rarer still to hear that tone in his voice.
Iris doesn't even think about it: she's halfway through checking herself quickly in the mirror: eye makeup in one piece, nightie and robe not stained or crumpled, no lipstick on her teeth - when she stops short, staring incredulously at her own reflection.]
You daft mare, 'e can't see you.
[She shakes her head at herself and goes to open the door.]
Let me guess, Mira made the perfect souffle? I 'ear that sort of thing can skip a generation.