Maybe her discomfort is feigned for fun, maybe she's simply an alternative girl with a point to prove, and if not in this outfit would be in doc martens and a t-shirt and with her hair messy, ready to laugh in a hoarse-voiced joke. For now she is subdued and looks downward, as the balding butlers argue good-naturedly about whether the next course should be fish or meat, and whether brandy is suitable for sipping by the fire.
She had come in at first, dolled-up but wondering why people were staring at her, through an ornate wood door, introduced by a butler who yelled out her name, past the blazing fire, sat down embarassed at the long table. A chalice of wine was placed at her elbow....