"Good morning, Ms. Frances." Kraft gave a slight nod, then thought it over and decided to return her greeting.
The delay of a few seconds made him seem somewhat socially inept and a little discourteous, like a dull, arrogant old scholar absorbed in his studies and addressing a junior.
But the lady from the Turquoise Family didn't take offense or pretend not to notice. Maintaining the same familiarity as before, she said, "You seem like someone who's devoted to scholarship, too, and not very interested in social gatherings or trivial etiquette."
"People like that often go further. After all, a craftsman can't afford to be distracted by anything else while polishing a gemstone."
She spoke with an easy, natural air, and it was hard to detect any deliberate flattery.
Beyond her social skills, Kraft noticed that she seemed to know about his recent activities at the clinic. Even the Academy had only learned of Artificial Pneumothorax as a treatment for Tuberculosis after receiving his letter.
The Sigo Family—or Frances Galat Sigo herself—was probably the sort with a keen nose and broad, timely sources of information.
"Thank you for the invitation. It's important to learn the limits of current instrument-making technology. After all, improving tools is the foundation of progress." Kraft's gaze darted between the small display tables. Perhaps one of them held the instruments he'd commissioned, though there were no labels or anything of the sort.
"Sounds like you know quite a few people at the Academy. I'd always thought it was a rather closed-off circle."
"Business requires a wide circle of acquaintances. Honestly, once you get to know them, you'll find that working with the Academy is a good choice—you're unlikely to meet anyone who's truly stupid."
Frances put her hat back on to shield herself from the somewhat