It was a foggy day in London, although thankfully it was real, misty fog that enveloped the city, and not the black clouds which used to be so common there even forty years ago. This fog, although chilly, gave the afternoon an almost ethereal feel, and it was on that exact day that one Nora Abernathy discovered how enchanting was the sight of leaves falling from trees and breaking the fog's formation. It was, in fact, so enchanting that if it were not for the snap of a twig, she would have hardly realised that she was being followed.
Turning around, she found, to her surprise, the Hamiltons' cousin, on whose insipid face was an exaggerated smile. The old man began walking faster, trying to catch up with her, as it seemed, while Nora assumed an adequately outraged air.
"Good evening, Miss Abernathy," the old man greeted, with somewhat forced nonchalance. "I was actually looking for you..."
Nora felt her stomach muscles clench; his aplomb had irritated her, his gall at following her all the way from home, enraged her. "Er, good evening, Major," she mumbled. How she longed to indicate her scandalised feelings! But for propriety's sake, as much as she cares for propriety, she refrained from them. "You could find me at the Hamiltons', if you were looking for me," she added.
"Indeed," the Major nodded, still as oddly enthusiastic as ever, "but it’s not necessary that the Hamiltons know all what concerns us, don’t you think? Anyway, it’s to offer you a job. It’s a bit far away, but I think it will suit you. And I happen to know you need one."
Even though she was still annoyed at the man, a part of Nora was intrigued. "What kind of job?" she found herself asking.
"A job in a historical archive in Palestine. You should like it there, you’re half Italian, after all."
Nora raised her eyebrows. Why would her being half Italian supposedly make her suitable for life in Palestine? As before, she itched to ask the question (with the required sharpness, of course), but decided to say nothing and keep it to herself.
Well, it does feel a bit clipped, but I was just trying on a short piece. I just thought that I would've described that scene with more detail, but Nora does seem to be reminiscing only in the original narrative.
Glossary of La Reinaisms
Aheheh: onomatopoeia for a chuckle, esp. a mischievous one
Hurm: onomatopoeia for thinking; a standard reply when all else fails
Spam: an all-purpose word