Closed After-Dinner Introductions
There were always all sorts coming and going in the guest rooms, some seemed permanent and others seemed to disappear within a night. Madswitte was such a very popular fellow, Anatole could scarcely believe the town had gone nearly deserted because of his supposed unpalatable personality just a short while ago. His Lordship seemed quite gay and always the centre of conversation at dinner. 

At dinner's conclusion on this night, he happened to see a face he didn't recognize - some son of a lord or lord with a lord's son. How could one ever keep track? So he took it upon himself to approach the young man as the company got to its feet and scattered about the manor for the evening on their own whims.

"Beg pardon sir, but I don't believe we've been introduced! I'm Anatole Morin."
As the greater number of the party departed the main dining room, the women at large upstairs and the men to the parlour, Oliver took his time. He had learnt there was little point in rushing anything in life, especially with a life as troublesome as his own. As such, he lingered until he was almost the last man, aside from the staff who had yet to begin cleaning the table. 

At first, he did not realise someone had fallen in beside him, though when the man spoke Oliver glanced in his direction and belatedly realised he was being spoken to. It was not that he found himself ignored, but rather that his naturally demure nature did tend to keep people from making a scene regarding him. 

"Oh, yes - A pleasure, Mister Morin." While not prepared for the introduction, Oliver was had good manners drilled into him from a very young age, "Oliver Savile, Lord Elland." He offered the other man his hand to shake, being very fond of the far more modern and equitable greeting than those favoured by their forefathers. 

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but you are the singer, aren't you?" While he might have gone unnoticed, Oliver liked to remain apprised of whom he was keeping company with, yet another trade drilled into him as a child. 
"Likewise, m'lord. And I am!" He beamed, shaking his hand, though at first his arm faltered. How tactile a greeting, the likes of which he'd not oft been offered these days. "What occasion has brought you to Madsmoor? If I may inquire?"

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