[Well. Rosalind stares for a few seconds, that bizarre feeling rising up in her, torn between calling him out on his sentiment and being too pleased to bother. She steps in towards him, compromising by not expressing either, but rather managing a brief smile, pleased.]
Now there's a decent trick. Why didn't you--
[A long, low whistle, followed by a series of awful clicking noises, cuts her off, and Rosalind grimaces.]
no subject
Now there's a decent trick. Why didn't you--
[A long, low whistle, followed by a series of awful clicking noises, cuts her off, and Rosalind grimaces.]
Come on.