After spending the morning reading in the library, Georgiana and Ribot accompanied Fawkes to a nearby restaurant for lunch.
Fiegel had become the errand runner. Until the Saint-Martin Canal was repaired, she could only drink soda water. Fawkes ordered an aperitif, while Ribot ordered Champagne.
"Do you know how soda water is made?" Fawkes asked, looking at Georgiana's drink.
She froze for a moment.
"I think some kind of gas is added?" she said uncertainly.
"I heard that the chemist Chaptal was once your guardian. Have you heard of Joseph Priestley? He is also an honorary member of the French Academy," Fawkes asked.
"I'm not sure. I did not have much contact with Mr. Chaptal."
"You should spend more time with him. You could learn a great deal." Fawkes took a sip of his sweet wine. "In 1772, he discovered a gas that made people laugh uncontrollably when they inhaled it. By 1774, he had developed a technique for extracting it, and that led to the soda water in your glass."
"All I know is that this water is from the Luxury brand." She raised her glass with a smile, then took a sip.
"This gas can also be used as an anesthetic. I heard a doctor once wanted to use it to treat tuberculosis. Later, a seventeen-year-old boy experimented on himself and found that inhaling it made pain disappear. I hear some surgical anesthetists use it during operations, though this method seems to have side effects. It speeds up blood circulation and makes the entire operation unbearably bloody."
Georgiana merely smiled and said nothing.
"Mr. Priestley married the daughter of Isaac Wilkinson, Britain's largest ironware manufacturer. Like Mr. Chaptal, he is an important minister with a background in chemistry. I heard you spent Christmas at her home last year?"