"Thank you. This will do." Tom Buchanan gave the hem of his suit a slightly nervous tug and nodded to the young attendant who had brought in the tea. He had dressed especially smartly today.
Daisy found it strange that her husband was being so polite. He usually treated servants as if they were invisible, and she had never seen him behave with such refinement.
James wore a comfortable, casual silk smoking jacket. He took the cloth Casper the butler handed him, dabbed at the corner of his mouth, then raised his cigar in a questioning gesture.
Mr. Buchanan stepped forward and accepted one, lighting it with great care. Daisy, by contrast, was as poised and easygoing as ever. In a soft voice, she asked about a helmet-like object that had just been unwrapped and had yet to be put away at the side of the hall.
"Mr. Howlett, what's that frightening-looking helmet? Some kind of new-fashioned ornament?"
James glanced to the side, privately grumbling that Azazel never knew how to put his things away, then offered a genial explanation.
"It's a souvenir I brought back from a trip to Africa a few years ago. It belonged to a tribal chief."
Daisy studied the helmet, with its unusual material and silver-gray sheen in the light, shaped like a leopard's head with bared fangs. She told her husband enviously that they must find a chance to travel to Africa.
Taking the cue, Tom Buchanan relaxed a little and struck up a conversation over their cigars.
"My father has told me countless times about the many legendary exploits of Mr. James Howlett. It's truly an honor to visit you today."
"Those were my father's experiences. I'm just a man of leisure, so there's no need to be so formal." James handled the