There's no sign of a forthcoming kick, nor even a nudge. To all appearances, James is as comfortable as any of the rest of them are.

Perhaps it's the animated discussion of New York that briefly ensues; he answers Henri's questions, and then Quentin's, with the ease of a true native, never needing to think to summon details of the city itself-- and its ports, or its rail lines.

The waiter takes their orders, and when the main course is served, it's Marie who lays her hand lightly on Henri's arm with an artless laugh.

"Enough, non?"

"Oui," the other man agrees. "Madames Nancy, Amanda, my apologies if we have bored you with too much talk of shipping."

James slants a fond smile at Nancy.