Her cheeks coloured pink at his words, thinking at first he meant he had been waiting for her, or some similar sentiment, and then darkened with embarrassment, as her eyes darted downward, for thinking such conceited thoughts. There were other ways to take his words, and it likely was unflattering for her to choose the most vain meaning.
"I think it would have been a crime not to come," she said, looking around at the crowd that seemed to bob to-and-fro like a wave on the sea. "St Patrick's Day alone is an Irish institution."
She wished very much Adian, and even Flynn, had not disappeared, as Penelope suddenly felt wholly uninteresting and therefore unable or unworthy to monopolize the birthday boy's attention. Glancing at the small parcel in her lap, she then picked it up and held it out for Louis. "It's very small," she said, unnecessarily but meaning it more as an apology. "I am very bad with gifts." Not to mention trying to think of something a seasoned world-traveler would want or need was difficult to say the least, particularly with her constrained finances. Instead, Penelope had chosen something that would hopefully make him laugh, as one could never have too much of that, no matter how far they traveled. She thought of the emerald green plume and the gaudy jewel fastened just above the quill's nib, hoping it was as charmingly tacky as she had first found it.
"Today is possibly the only day you can use it."
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