“Mm, yes, those are quite odd. Though I do like the quiz show - Jeopardy, je pense?” He chuckles. “I do hope this film is a bit less strange than that production. Otherwise, you might start questioning my judgment. I might start questioning my judgment."

Combeferre hesitates for a moment, the corner of his mouth lifting up in an uncertain smile. What is the protocol? How close might he be expected to sit, what sort of contact would make her smile, and what would shock her? Combeferre is keenly aware that his own sense of propriety is different from Sybil’s, and both are wildly different from those of this brave new world.

There is only one thing to do: leap in, and hope for the best.

He sits beside her on the sofa close enough that their hands might rest upon each other. “Prouvaire sends his regards, by the way."