[Mature, PM to Join] Gravel and Some Wine

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, 12 Hamis 2717
The Smaller Ladies Retiring Room, the Richelieu Residence, Uptown

Nearly six,” Niccolette said with a pleased smile. It would be six, she thought, at the end of Roalis. ”Not enough time for a city like Florne to change, I think.”

Some day, Niccolette thought, she would take Uzoji there. Once he had seen Florne - and properly - he would concede that it rivaled even Thul Ka for greatness. Vienda could not hold a candle to either, naturally. She doubted, too, that the city’s propensity for distraction has lessened in the least; she had every confidence that Lilliana’s time could be well-occupied, if such occupation was what she sought.

It was time that they returned; Niccolette matched Lilliana with the draining of her glass. She set it down with a quiet clink, gathering herself, and glancing regretfully at the bottle of champagne, and the glasses left inside.

Niccolette raised her eyebrows at the sound from the hallway. One of the Richelieu’s daughter, she thought. Was it the one who had quite not yet shed her baby fat, or the one who seemed able to talk only in a high pitched breathless voice? From Lilliana’s reaction, it was the other she wished to avoid.

Niccolette studied the Anaxi. She glanced around the small room; she rose delicately from the chair where she had perched as she straightened her toilette. Niccolette walked across the room, undid the window latch, and opened it wide.

”As you like,” Niccolette said. It was a crisp, cool night, as were so many in the rainy season, but not unpleasant. She breathed in deep the air, grateful for the freshness of it, and sorry, just a little, to banish the last lingering memories of other scents.

It was easily big enough for either of them - low enough, Niccolette thought casually, that she could have sat on the sill and swung her legs over, even in such a dress. The patio that ran along the back of the house was level with the floor; it would be almost simple.

It was not, naturally, simple in the least. Likely as not they had been gone too long already for polite excuses to suffice. Niccolette wondered, floating on the champagne and other delights, if being caught climbing from a retiring room window would be sufficient to get her banned from polite society; she almost hoped it was, though she had her reasons for wanting otherwise. She did not think so, not really, not for either of them. It would be awkward, naturally, but not ruinous.

Niccolette did not have the excuse of a soon-to-be-scorned lover; all the same, she thought she would rather escape into the patio with Lilliana than endure one more moment of dull repetitive polite conversation, of endless social niceties, and the polite dampening of her field.

Niccolette turned back to Lilliana then, and raised both brows, smiling. She stepped to the side, leaving the other woman space enough to go through - if she wished. Niccolette found herself rather hoping Lilliana did wish.

[caporushes]

12 of Hamis, 2717 - Evening
The Smaller Ladies' Retiring Room

The Steerpikes were not a family without dignity or reputation. As the eldest daughter and presumed heir, with the exception of her romantic life Lilliana always tried to act accordingly. It was something she was very good at, really: threading that thin line between being so outrageous no one of note would associate with you and being so well-behaved that it had the same result. As such, simply absconding through the retiring room window to avoid an ugly scene with her current paramour was rather beneath her.

Which was not, of course, to say she wouldn't do it.

Nicolette had opened the window and the night air came in, refreshing and crisp. There was the memory of rain in it. Ana studied the window. Her gown was, admittedly, not the most comfortable of articles for clambering through a window, no matter how low and wide. But she thought it would remain undamaged by the activity, if she were careful. Her reputation was another question entirely. There would be no reasonable explanation should some other partygoer see them in this state. Her parents would be scandalized. This thought alone brought a smile to Ana's face. Even without the impending prospect of having to deal with the Miss Leonetti Problem in public, that would have decided her. There was no greater entertainment, she reflected, than to scandalize Julietta and Edmund Steerpike.

"You are too kind, Mrs. Ibutatu," Ana said with a smile and a polite bow. The matter settled in her mind, Ana made her way to the window. Before she got quite there, she paused. Her face lit up as if delighted by some thought or another. Without so much as a glance to the human attendant in the back of the room, Ana plucked up the bottle of champagne, holding it carefully in one hand as she steadied herself against the window frame with the other.

"It would be a shame to leave it to less appreciative audiences," Ana said by way of explanation. Although she rather thought Niccolette didn't need any. "Shall we leave the glasses behind?"

A smile broke out across her face then, wider and less polite than her others. Her field sparkled with mischievious delight. And then Lilliana Steerpike swung herself through the window and out into the Roalis night.

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, 12 Hamis 2717
The Smaller Ladies Retiring Room, the Richelieu Residence, Uptown

Niccolette let Lillana go first, swinging herself over the windowsill, champagne bottle in hand. She gathered up the gold fabric in her hand and settled herself in place. She had laughed, although quietly, thoroughly delighted with the sort of companion Lilliana Steerpike was turning out to be. Niccolette braced one hand against the window frame.

The voices in the hallway were growing slightly louder; Niccolette heard the faintest rattling of the doorknob.

The Bastian swung her legs over the windowsill, and stepped out onto the back patio, leaving the retiring room behind. The night air was every bit as crisp as promised, tingling in her lungs. Niccolette took hold of Lilliana’s wrist, gently, her other hand pressing a finger to her own lips. A door opened, and the Richelieu’s daughter’s voice echoed, nasally, through the room.

It was a long back patio; it wrapped around the house, stretching beneath a handful of other windows and to an open set of doors which led back into the party; sound and light spilled out of them, glittering over the bricks. There were two distant figures on the other end; Niccolette glanced over long enough to see them twining together. She was nowhere near close enough to see who they were; nor, in truth, did she much care. Perhaps, even with the champagne, she might have ducked beneath the window and ventured back towards the door – but there was a flurry of motion then, and the silhouette of a man waving a cigar into the night sky as he stepped out.

Niccolette eased her head the other way, away from the doors, the shine of the chandeliers and all the tedious conversation beneath it. She led Lilliana quietly over the brick, and down a small set of stars off the far edge of the patio. The Richelieu’s had a lovely garden; it was neatly trimmed for the season, but brilliant and green even in the moonlight. Trees overhung the path that ran through it; gravel crunched between Niccolette’s feet.

It was Vienda; there was no garden big enough to forget that, not entirely. One had only to look back to see the light spilling out of the big house; the sky above was dim, only a few stars twinkling through scattered clouds and the city of the city. There were distant noises which drifting occasionally from the festivities inside, or else from the houses beyond – a strain of music, stopping and starting again with someone’s practice – the rattling of carriage wheels against a distant street, paired with the squawk of a moa.

But mostly it was the click of two sets of high-heeled shoes on the gravel, the quiet swish of dresses through the night air, and the faint creak of branches overhead in the wind.

“Much better,” Niccolette said, firmly. She had let go of Lilliana’s hand once their path was set, rather than lingering over long. The path turned away from the house; Niccolette ducked beneath a branch, and followed it, revealing a small marble bench set at the edge of a burbling fountain. She brushed it with her hand, delicately; it was dry, if cool. Niccolette sat, legs crossed at the ankle, and settled comfortably into place.

“As a girl, such parties always seemed so exciting,” Niccolette said with a little smile, watching the water ripple through the night air. “But so much of it is just – “ she exhaled, glancing over at Lilliana, and shrugged, “noise.”

[caporushes]

12th of Hamis 2717 - Evening
The Richelieu Residence Garden

Ana's eyebrows raised at the touch of Niccolette's hand to her wrist, but she saw the finger and smiled, tilting her ears to the open window of the retiring room. Yes, she could hear the voice of one of the Richelieu daughters--Margaret? Helena? Oh, whichever one it was that had been wearing that terrible dress--and another voice that she knew to be Miss Leonetti.

The patio could take them back to the party, of course, but the party was dull and Ana had no interest in entertaining questions about how she came to be outside with Mrs. Ibutatu when nobody had seen either of them leave. She also had not met Mr. Ibutatu, not really, and wasn't sure how that would appear. A man with a cigar appeared, and Nicolette ducked away from the doors. Ana followed, more interested in her new company than anything inside. Besides, Ana still had the champagne. It would be rude to carry it back inside, or go off to drink it alone.

Ana followed Niccolette along the brick to the far side of the patio, and onward through the well-manicured garden of the Richelieu residence. It really was very nice; Ana would have to make a point to compliment their gardener. For all that it wasn't large, as no townhouse garden was, it was private in feeling and abundantly green. Her slipper snagged on a bit of gravel. Ana let out a startled laugh as she stumbled. She looked around then, but nobody was near enough to have heard. She could still hear the noises of the party from inside the house, but they retreated as they walked on. Closer now were the sounds of Vienda itself--the traffic, the neighbors.

Ana thought with some longing for the Steerpike estate. It was nominally in Vienda, of course, but in actuality was far enough outside that the property was quite large. She hadn't taken a proper walk around it in some years; even when she returned to Anaxas in observance of some sham of filial piety, she stayed in a set of apartments they owned for such an occasion, in the city itself. Ana had not been any further than her father's study since. Well. Since her graduation, and all that had followed.

This was much better; Ana made a murmur of agreement. The marble of the bench was cold, even through layers of taffeta and silk, but the fountain was lovely and the night air was refreshing more than it nipped. Ana took a seat next to Niccolette, with the bottle settled carefully between them.

"They felt more exciting then, too," Ana agreed. Although this party was hardly a prime example of the species. Still. As much as she loved this life, sometimes she was just tremendously bored by it all. "Of course, I hadn't yet been to Florne as a girl," she added, her mouth twitching upwards at the corners. Moonlight washed out most of the color from the scene in front of them, making everything eerie and soft. For a moment Ana watched the movement of the water.

One day, she had wanted to show all of these things to Aurelie. That, she thought, would have been much better--her sister would be not yet twenty now, and near to graduating. Ana could have brought her, taken her shopping, made introductions... For all that Ana found this party terribly boring, she did know a great many interesting people still. Would her quiet, somber baby sister have liked this party? Would she have liked any party? The thought was dour. Ana didn't want to think about it. She took up the champagne she had just set between them and took perhaps a longer sip than was appropriate, to wash the taste of such things out of her mouth. It had flashed in her field and then was gone, all things returned to their diamond-bright state.

"You are lucky to be married at these things, Mrs. Ibutatu. You will not believe the absolute parade of Incumbent's daughters--and more than a few overly hopeful sons--I am asked to converse with at so many of them." Ana tossed the complaint off lightly--it was more a hassle than any true suffering. "It is difficult, to be so fascinating and admired." She sighed a dramatic sigh, then laughed. Ana offered the champagne to Niccolette; it was somehow even better, out underneath the night sky.

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, 12 Hamis 2717
The Garden, the Richelieu Residence, Uptown

Niccolette grinned at the mention of Florne. “Of course,” she tipped her head back, slightly, long dark locks of hair spilling out against the back of the bench. There was, still, an ever-present pride in her voice at the mention of Florne; no matter that she had not been there for nearly six years, and no matter that she did not know when she would return. She was entirely confident that the parties in Florne were in every way better, grander and more exciting than those in Vienda.

Niccolette did not, though – not really – think that she would feel much better if it were one of those she attended tonight. Not really. It was all just noise there too, she thought, watching the water burble through the fountain. It was all pale in the moonlight, soft and white; some of the cascading water rippled with it.

Niccolette laughed as well, when Ana did. Something had flickered over her face at the word married – something twitched and then was gone. “I can imagine your beauty does not help matters either,” Niccolette said with a grin. She took the bottle of champagne from Lilliana; she took a longer sip as well, one hand wrapped around the smooth glass next of it. She lowered her head, and the bottle; she set it back on the bench between them.

“Perhaps you know?” Niccolette glanced at the other woman. “We married at twenty, in fact,” she looked down at her left hand, settled on the smooth drape of fabric over her thigh; her fingers slid over the ring. She smiled, a little foolishly, softer, and tucked her hands into one another in her lap. “I had been to… very few parties here in Vienda before that,” Niccolette grinned, wickedly now. “Only a few during my Brunnhold days, when I passed summer or winters in Vienda rather than returning to Florne.”

“Having a husband or wife does confer certain other benefits as well, naturally,” Niccolette said, thoughtful. “You may split up the worst of the boring conversations, so long as you are a bit careful in the doing of it – one must not be too obvious. It is rather a delicate art,” Niccolette grinned, “but well worth the mastering.”

Even now, Niccolette thought, Uzoji would be inside, making conversation. Enofe had not come tonight; her husband’s brother, the nominal reason for their visit, had been called to a late night meeting for one of the committees on which he served. Niccolette had thought Uzoji would accompany him; instead, they had decided to attend the party. The conversations she had needed to have were finished; she knew what to make of them.

And Uzoji’s? She thought of her husband inside, grinning, the lipstick wiped from his face, his head gleaming in the light of the chandelier. He would have a drink in hand – a whiskey, most likely – but he would not sip from it more than rarely. Who was he talking to? Niccolette let herself imagine a gray-haired incumbent, one with a patchy, ragged beard. Her imagination wandered onward; her hands tightened against each other, and relaxed.

“As well, there is always someone to fetch your carriage,” Niccolette added; her smile had not faltered, and it did not now.

[caporushes]

12th of Hamis 2717 - Evening
The Richelieu Residence Garden

"Just so," Ana agreed. Truly, it was burdensome to be so charming. She was sure Niccolette understood. The Bastian woman seemed rather similarly afflicted.

Ana shook her head--she had not, in fact, heard. Or if she had, she hadn't chosen to remember. Ana remembered a great many things about a great many people, but the age at which they married tended to be something of an uninteresting subject. Not useful, either. It was not often the topic came up in polite conversation, really. Even when they had been so young--a scandal, very nearly. But not quite.

Ana wondered idly how old Niccolette was--similar in age to herself, she thought, though one never could really tell with some women. So perhaps their school years had overlapped. How had they not met then? Or perhaps they had. Towards the end of her years at Brunnhold, it must be admitted, Ana's attention was rather... singularly-focused, as one might say. Ana fought back a grimace. The follies of youth.

"You almost make it sound appealing," Ana said with a smile. Almost--very nearly. But not quite. Ana had not missed the slight change in Niccolette's grip, the flash across her face. She made it her business to notice such things about people, after all. She did not comment. "I have hopes that my usual company can run such interference, of course, but it is a rare young lady indeed who can do such things with no prompting. Alas, I shall just have to continue to have them myself." Ana was still smiling as well.

"You attended Brunnhold then, the both of you? When did you graduate, if I may ask? I do wonder how we never managed to meet at the time." There was no wonder in it, really--Brunnhold was a large school, after all. For all that Ana had always had an eye for pretty girls, she hardly knew every one of them in the entire University. But it seemed rather a safer subject than that of marriage, something she was loathe to discuss and bored by besides. If Niccolette wished to discuss something else, she would be happy to do that as well.

Ana picked the champagne back up and had another sip while she waited for Niccolette's reply. It wasn't her habit in the usual way of things to drink this much, she had to admit. The party really had just been so very trying. Was it any wonder she needed something else to help her carry through? And once opened, it would not last--certainly neither of them were going to bring it back to the party. Gracious Lady, no! What a waste that would be. So if she over-indulged here, well, that was fine with her. The good opinion of the Richelieus, Ana had decided, was nothing she felt obligated to maintain.

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, 12 Hamis 2717
The Garden, the Richelieu Residence, Uptown

Niccolette smiled. “2711, the both of us,” she said. “I was there throughout, but Uzoji attended only his last two years.” Her ankles were crossed beneath the bench; her hands loosened and settled against the smooth gold fabric of her skirt. Whatever faint tension there had been in her had smoothed out; this was no place to lose her temper. Niccolette knew well how to keep it; she was no child, anymore, to feel wild lashings of anger at the slightest provocation. She was no child, anymore, to act quickly and hastily – not, at least, before she was sure.

“And you?” Niccolette grinned. “I suppose we would not have met in our respective upper level courses. I do not think I remember you from the dueling club.” Perceptive and clairvoyant conversation were Lilliana’s specialties; Niccolette knew something of the gauging of fields, and she was thoroughly confident in her assessment of the other galdor. Perceptive, Niccolette thought, more than clairvoyant. It was always hard to tell, when meeting someone socially, how often they cast. She wondered; she had a sense that Lilliana had the ironclad will to see more difficult casting through – if she so desired.

The Bastian had released her dampening, slowly, as the two of them moved through the garden. By now, bright, sharp living mona hung in the air all around her. There was an intensity to them not common at such parties – it was the field of someone who cast more regularly than most galdori outside of academia, and Niccolette knew it. It was why she kept it delicately dampened on such occasions. She had never minded the crush of fields all about her, the sense of mona swarming thick through the air; not in school, not even when her fellow students had let their emotions leak out around them in feeling and color. At such a party, the only thing anyone let show was a bastly warmth. Niccolette had never bled so, of course; these days, her field was perfectly indectal, and decidedly a ramscott. It was simply easier to keep it contained, most of the time.

She had still done no more than a light, gentle caprise of Lilliana’s field; sitting together, they were politely mingled, but no more than if they had been inside, even with the subtle strengthening of Niccolette’s field. It was tedious, Niccolette thought, irritated, to keep herself suppressed so. She was tired of it; she was tired of all of it.

The Bastian took the bottle of champagne again and took another sip herself. “I quite liked Brunnhold,” she continued, idly. She glanced at Lilliana from the corner of her eye and grinned, sudden and wicked. “Apart from all the rules.” She set the bottle back down; she ran her fingers through her hair and pushed it back off her forehead. “I have never cared for them, I am afraid,” Niccolette said, grinning. “And there were always rather a lot.”

[caporushes]

12th of Hamis 2717 - Evening
The Richelieu Residence Garden

Ana nodded--so a few years below her after all. And those two she would not have met Uzoji--who Ana could only assume was Mr. Ibutatu; she could not remember if they were acquainted.

"A couple of years before--2709. I never was much for the dueling club," Ana admitted. Which seemed a shame, now--she wondered if Niccolette had been good at it. She had never much cared to participate herself. Though Ana was and remained a truly devoted student to both her conversations of choice, her interest had always been outside of the spectacle of the dueling club. "In my last years much of my time was devoted to assisting with lectures. And paperwork. Trying on the life of a career academic, I suppose." Ana's expression was just a little wistful. There had been a time once, when she was young and bright and had her whole future sprawled out before her, that Lilliana had thought she might very much have liked to return to Brunnhold as a lecturer herself. That had been before--before Aurelie. After that, she couldn't stand to look at the place anymore, much less teach at it. At that terrible red-stoned cage that had her baby sister captive inside of it.

"I changed my mind," was all she said of that.

Which was not to say that Ana had abandoned study, or casting--far from it. Though saying that she was looking to further her studies at Anastou had been more a pretense than a true desire, she had thrown herself into her postgraduate education and beyond. Ana knew what she appeared to be--a socialite, the scion of a wealthy and prominent house, and nothing much more than that. To those who might be inclined to think that a well-practiced smile and social grace didn't allow room for much else, that is. Ana was rarely interested in the impressions of fools.

Niccolette didn't strike her as a fool. Her field was sharp and bright, though politely restrained. Less so, out here, than it had been inside, but restrained all the same. Ana was curious, but didn't wish to be rude. Her own she kept neat and orderly, so wildly indectal, out of both politeness and habit. Ana wondered; Niccolette had the field of someone who cast far more than most. The Anaxi did not take her for an academic.

"You do not strike me as the type to care for them, no," Ana returned, perhaps a little more bold than she would have been back inside. Her voice was warm with approval. Ana had never much cared for rules herself, especially when it did not suit her. "Too many, indeed." Rules that interfered with Ana and getting what she desired, what she deserved, were hardly rules at all. More... suggestions. And one was free to ignore suggestions, no matter how well-given.

Ana took another sip of the champagne, although she was getting the sense that at this rate she would become rather silly before night's end. Well, let it be so! This party was dull, and she had endured it long enough. Better to leave it silly and in disgrace than continue on as she had been. With that decision firm in her mind, Ana took another drink again--this no small sip, but a more unladylike draught. The bubbles of it went slightly awry, and Ana laughed. One hand was held over her mouth as she set the bottle back down. That had been, perhaps, too much.

"Rules," she declared, bright-eyed with a sort of wicked glee, "are for those too dull to think of ways around them."

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, 12 Hamis 2717
The Garden, the Richelieu Residence, Uptown

Shame,” Niccolette said, casually, white teeth flashing in an easy, casual grin. She left it vague as to whether she meant that she had not met Lilliana during their Brunnhold days – she suspected the other girl would have been rather fun to have around – or that Lilliana had occupied herself with dull, academic matters when there was so much else to do.

It was hard to imagine, Niccolette thought, studying the bright, vivid creature next to her. She did not doubt Lilliana’s mind or capabilities; on the contrary, despite the brevity of their interaction, she had little doubt that Lilliana was a woman capable of whatever she put her mind to. No, rather, Niccolette felt she had a fairly good idea of the academic temperament.

Niccolette was not oblivious to the something there beneath the easy words; she did not pry. It was none of her business; whatever disappointment it was that Lilliana thought of, alongside her past decisions, it was hers alone. Niccolette did not pry; she did not give any sign that she thought of it as anything other than an off-hand comment about something which had happened long ago.

It was far more enjoyable to discuss rules. Niccolette grinned, broadly, at the warm hum of approval in Lilliana’s voice. The other woman took a small sip of champagne, and then a second, larger sip. Niccolette followed her lead; she tilted her head back and took a longer, heavier drink. The champagne was fizzing through her veins; it buzzed in her head, light and vibrant, and she shivered with enjoyment.

“This is rather excellent champagne,” Niccolette remarked. Her voice had thickened, ever so slightly; she was not quite drunk, but she’d had some wine with dinner, and another glass in the party before other indulgences had caught her attention. It was starting to show, now, in her voice, just the faintest edge of it. She turned the bottle in her hands, studying the label. Bastian, naturally; Niccolette smirked, unsurprised.

“Rules,” Niccolette agreed, “are shackles we choose to wear,” she made a little face, scrunching up her nose, and turned to face Lilliana on the bench, studying the other woman rather intently. “I never understood it. Three, four hundred years ago, some man says – yes, you shall do it this way. And here we are today, and still we do it this way. Why? It becomes self-sustaining. It is how it has been; therefore, this is how it must be.”

“One does grow rather weary of good behavior,” Niccolette said with a little grin. She ran her fingers along the edge of the wine bottle, slowly, trailing her fingertips over the glass. She shrugged. Her grip on her field loosened a little more; it stretched further and brighter around them both. The caprise of Lilliana deepened faintly, a gentle, curious nudge. “Too much time on the isles, perhaps,” Niccolette sighed, settled comfortably against the back of the bench. Despite it all, her posture was still straight and even; despite it all, her legs were crossed only with a gentle tuck at the ankles.

[caporushes]

12th of Hamis 2717 - Evening
The Richelieu Residence Garden

It was rather excellent champagne, Ana agreed. Although if she were pressed, Ana would have to admit that she was no great connoisseur of wines of any sort. Oh, she knew a fair amount--enough to carry her through most dinner parties. She was a lady of breeding, after all, and one simply had to know these things to go about in polite society. But the subject was of no particular passion for her, and she found it so hard to remember anything that wasn't interesting. This, too, would have hampered her career in academia she supposed. So perhaps it was for the best after all that she had given up on that dream.

Niccolette sounded like she was well on the same path as Ana was herself, the other woman's voice just slightly thicker than it was before. Perhaps it would be more wise of them both to show restraint. Of course, it would have been wiser not to climb out the window with the bottle too. Wisdom did not seem to be high on either of their list of priorities.

Ana listened to Niccolette's tirade on rules with good humor. She was so passionate about the subject after all. And it must be admitted that Ana was always weak to the Bastian accent. Hundreds of years--yes, some rules were meant to be changed, or bent. Or broken entirely. Ana nodded, perhaps a shade too fiercely. Perhaps she was a bit more tipsy than she thought; her head sloshed just a little. She hadn't eaten much at dinner, and now that she thought on it--well, Ana had needed something to occupy her while she was avoiding her lovely Miss Leonetti. A rare error in judgement.

"One grows weary of so many things," Ana agreed with a sigh and a toss of her dark copper head. Good behavior, rules, parties--all of it could be so exhausting. Although, she reflected somewhat blearily, if she weren't at this terribly dull party, she never would have met her charming companion. At least not properly. And that would have been a shame.

Lilliana too was curious, feeling the loosening of Niccolette's control. Just what did the lovely Mrs. Ibutatu get up to, to make her field feel so--so bright, so obviously that of one who cast often? Ana's own field was always orderly--a neatly laid-out jewelry box. She wondered if the other woman was holding back on her account, or for some other reason. If it was for Ana's sake, she didn't have to, but the Anaxi was hardly going to mention it. It was polite of her, after all.

"The isles? Is that where you have been living, then?" Ana was curious about that, as well. She had never been, though she had been to Thul Ka on a few occasions. She was not aware of many galdori who had. Curious and curiouser, this fascinating Mrs. Ibutatu. If her interest seemed to keen, it was just the wine going to her head. As sparkling and controlled as Ana usually strove to be, she was weak to folly just like anyone else. Well, not just like anyone else--certainly it happened to her less than to other people.