"'No one died. Catastrophe averted!' A smile as proud as if she'd been his own daughter. 'You did it, my dear Countess.'
The hotel manager wouldn't let up. Already skilled in a superior level of obsequiousness when it came to dealing with any member of the Carrington family, he was clearly overcome at having discovered a new chamber of his heart as yet unfilled with admiration for Caroline Carrington. Mr. Drake Mukherjee was an Anglo-Indian man of immaculate grooming and manners.
Caroline found herself staring in wonder at his fingernails as he talked. His manicure was easily as good as hers. She glanced at her own hands. In fact, Mukherjee's manicure was better. Before climbing holidays she'd normally trim nails and file then down to optimal length for tying and untying knots. Since the Himalayas, they'd already grown. Today, two had broken."
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