His charm is excessive, Dahlia thinks; forced and artificial. Only a girl as green as Fantine is would find him so enthralling. Not that that should dismay him; the world is full of pretty little ninnies. For herself, she prefers a man who only speaks when he has something clever to say.

Yet she can't find it in her to dislike Fantine. There's something endearing about her silliness; maybe it's only that she can be serious sometimes. Dahlia despises giggling girls.

All the girls make a pet of Fantine; she is so pretty, and so engaging, and often seems so helpless. She isn't catty, the way Favourite often is; and she isn't stupid, except over Felix.

Besides, Dahlia can remember being that stupid, too. Sometimes she finds time to hope the Blonde will grow out of it more painlessly than she did.