"That's the impression she likes to give." His smile was amused enough that it was clear he wasn't often the recipient of that particular look. "Why have an argument when you can forestall it with the perfect glare?" It was a technique he had worked on himself through the years.

He folded it over once and handed it to her. "Can't stand the quiet, eh?" If that was even partially true, he could empathize. "It looks better, being smooth and nonchalant. 'Oh, yes, it's the liver, you see'. Although I could just as easily do it without the excuses, if you prefer." He held her gaze for a moment or two before looking away again. "I'm afraid I don't have much longer. The time flew."