Reply To: The Incense of the Quadrivium’s Mystiques

Trying not to smile too broadly, Truella was delighted with Malove’s latest idea. An inveterate and unrepentant smoker, she had often wondered what the hysteria about cigarette smoke was all about.  It seemed as ludicrous as the Victorian fashion for hiding immodest table and piano legs with voluminous paisley shawls while sending children up chimneys to clean them.  Those who railed against tobacco smoke filled their rooms with the noxious fumes of incense or toxic “air fresheners”, their fridges with smoked bacon and smoked salmon, delighted in “real fires” with nostalgic wisps of smoke curling from country cottage chimneys, and sitting around a smoking barbecue or campfire.  Humans had lived in smokey hovels and caves since the beginning of time.

Frigella noticed Truella smirking and shook her head, tutting. With a devilishly wide grin, Truella whispered, “Meet me in the pub afterwards, need to talk.”

“Perhaps we can count on your full and undivided participation for once, Truella,” Malove said, who hadn’t missed anything. “With your penchant for filling public spaces with smoke, this mission will no doubt appeal to you greatly.”

“Indeed,” she replied, endeavouring to look demure and obedient.