Dour Mr. Vickery

Alice makes her way slowly around the perimeter of the room, nodding and smiling to the various guests she knows as she does so. After a few moments' work, she manages to get herself a spot next to the mysterious, scornful-looking Mr. Vickery. She stands at his elbow, sipping her punch, for a few seconds, waiting for him to notice her.

He does not seem to even see her.

Alice clears her throat, and Vickery turns to her, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Do you not dance, sir?" Alice asks him primly.

"No, not very usually," Vickery replies firmly. He gives her a short, curt bow. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Miss...?"

"Foxhaven. Alice Foxhaven," Alice says with a smile. Vickery just nods, and starts to turn his attention back to the party. "May I ask why you don't dance?" Alice asks, slightly desperately.

"I have very little desire to do so," Mr. Vickery replies. He's not even looking at her anymore...

Desperately, Alice tries to think how to rectify this situation. Should she be more forward with this man? It usually doesn't take this much work...