Gemotions

The antique shop's bell jingled as Reginald strolled in, adjusting his monocle. Beatrice, eyes wide, gestured towards a chipped porcelain doll. “I remember that doll vividly! It was in Mrs. Gable’s window, wasn't it?” Reginald chuckled, his chest expanding slightly beneath his waistcoat. “My dear Beatrice, your memory is playing tricks. That doll? We bought it for *my* mother, at a shop on Baker Street. Remember the cab ride? I nearly lost my hat.” He tapped the side of his nose, the skin around his eyes crinkling with what looked like amusement.

He then smoothly reached out and picked up the doll. "The shop on Baker Street *that I know*, was it not much more reputable?" Reginald carefully dusted off the doll's bonnet. Beatrice opened her mouth, but the words seemed to fail her.