"I would never skulk, Eileen. I'm just staying out of the way of the whirling dervishes." Or something of that sort, at least. He raises his brows at her, though, taking in the dress that is still demure and girlish, but distinctly more grown up than the dresses she'd worn last year. Soon enough, he thinks, her mother will have trouble on her hands.

"What about you? Done skulking, or just starting out?"