Ah well, [Wysteria sighs, settling back into her chair. She brings the cup and saucer along with her, elbows hooked gamely on either of the chair's spindly carved arms.]

I'm certain I'll think of something. In the meantime, I believe I shall make my apologies to poor Monsieur Dalat—a more directly aggrieved party, as you will recall he was actually in attendance—and see where that leads me.