It's funny how, when Jenny thinks about it, she really hasn't seen all that much at all. When she did travel, it was in company far cultured than she was used to spending time in, but even when they took her to Oxford, it was never really about her. She sees that, now. Paris, Paris was lovely, but even for a place she spent most of her life wanting to visit, most of what she remembers about it now is overshadowed by what she did there (what she gave up there). The thought one that threatens to make her blush — she isn't embarrassed about what she did, but in present company, she really doesn't need to be dwelling on that — she does her best to dismiss it, quirking a smile instead. "That must have been lovely," she says, and means it. "I've never actually been. What were you there for? Just visiting?"