In Which I Become Lost In A Fictional Reverie

Reporting from Los Angeles, Brian Williams is sophisticated in his silk cravat of stormcloud crossed with burgundy diagonals snugged by a slim platinum pinstripe. The dashing young valet offers his arm to the guest. She is dressed, shockingly, in a ruby red gown for this sombre occasion. The short veil on her hat lends her some discretion, but it is clear that she is not mourning the loss of her fiance. Demurely, she smiles up at him, her even white teeth looking almost vulpine in the dim light of the funeral parlor. He is caught unaware, smiles self-consciously, and all is observed under the watchful eye of Lord Felton-Hayes nearby.