Charlotte wavered a moment, thinking. For some reason, it felt late enough to be an imposition, but she knew the sun had only recently gone down. And thinking had this strange, fuzzy quality to it. It was like trying to put together a watch, cog by spring, wearing mittens.
"Do you think we should go now, Madame? To Minna, or is there somewhere else we could still work this evening?"
With the other two women gone, she have Marchande her full attention, and all the weight of expectation such attentiveness brings to bear. 'It is your responsibility' her eyes said, just short of judging. Her brow moves slightly however, as if she were fighting a frown.
The motions clears up however, as the others return. Whatever her expression, Charlotte was better at keeping its cause from her mind while grouped.