Professor Braithwope, shimmering out of his room fully clothed and dapper. His mustache was a fluffy caterpillar of curiosity, perched and ready to inquire, dragging the vampire along behind it on the investigation.
Gail CarrigerLord Maccon believed that if his trousers were on his legs, and something else was on his torso, he was dressed. The less done after that, the better. His wife had been startled to find that in the summertime, he actually went around their room barefoot! Once -- and only once, mind you -- he even attempted to join her for tea in such a state. Impossible man. Alexia put a stop to that posthaste.
Gail CarrigerSo, what do you think, my dear, will it be a girl or a boy?โ โIt will be a soul-stealer, apparently.โ โWhat!โ The earl reared away from his wife and looked down at her suspiciously.
Gail CarrigerFelicity grimaced in agreement. โNo, you are perfectly correct. I did not realize how vital the approbation of oneโs butler is in allowing for nocturnal autonomy.
Gail CarrigerLady Maccon.โ โBy George, Boots! How the deuce can you possibly tell that there is Lady Maccon?โ queried the other top-hated gentleman. โWho else would be standing in the middle of a street on full-moon night with a raging ruddy fire behind her, waving a parasol about?โ โGood point, good point.
Gail CarrigerPast persons of Scottishness in contact with mastermind of supernatural persuasion in London, aka Agent Doom.โ Floote moved on to the third bit of paper. โ โLady K says Agent Doom assisted depraved Plan of Action. May have all been his idea.โ Moving on to the last one, he read out, "Summer permits Scots to expose more knee than lady of refinement should have to withstand. Hairmuffs much admired. Yours etc., Puff Bonnet.
Gail Carriger