'Don't I know you?'

'Your face certainly rings a bell.'

'Yours too. You look different though.'

'Yes, I'm the only woman here who's drenched in sweat,' said Emma, plucking at the fabric beneath her arms.

'You mean "perspiration".'

'Actually, no, this is sweat. I look like I've been dragged from a lake. Natural silk my eye!'

'Sort of an oriental theme, isn't it?'

'I call it my Fall of Saigon look. Chinese technically. Of course the trouble with one of these dresses is forty minutes later you want another one!' she said, and had that feeling, halfway through the sentence that she would have been better off not starting it. Did she imagine it, or did he roll his eyes a little? 'Sorry.'

'That's okay. I really like the dress. In fact me love it long time.'