The judgment just gets another smile, another dip of the dimple. "You should always be more cautious of the quiet, normal ones. They tend to wind up having the biggest surprises in stories." A conspiratorial wink, and she taps the side of her nose. "I'm a writer, I know these things."

She laughs a bit. It's reflexive, the laughter - if she didn't, the actual reaction would be startled, sad. Like she'd been avoiding that thought, glossing over it along with a whole mess of other things. "Um." A long pause follows. "I think..." Jules clears her throat, and manages another light laugh. "I think that my friends imagine I ran off with an extremely handsome man I met in the south of France, and that I will be in contact with them once the thrill of the moment has worn off."

Lies. They'd be worried sick, but she couldn't think about that. How were you meant to think about that? "Greg has probably made up a story to tell my parents, too." She just about manages to keep the creep of a shake out of her voice. "Maybe when the Queen takes us she just sort of takes care of everything at home in the meantime. Whatever the case, it's sure to be absolutely, perfectly fine."

Still, the cigarette goes unlike, Jules just rolling it between her fingers, spinning it, tapping it against her thumb.