[ She goes like a girl to her execution, but she goes, which he considers excellent progress. They won't get far with her hovering uncomfortably; better that they sit across from each other properly, and he will give her a reprieve from the attention when the kettle whistles.

In the meantime, though, his eyebrows jump in genuine surprise. ]

Oh, dear. [ He actually says oh dear low and grave like this is tragic news about the passing of a relative, or some such; for all that he's lived it a hundred times, there really is no good way to discuss someone's own death. ] Very exciting indeed, I suppose, but not in the way that makes good teatime conversation.

[ The smile he quirks is a shade more apologetic, now, and his interest only more acute. (Perhaps it explains some of her clear anxiety; no wonder her protector had been so readily riled.) ]

I do apologize for bringing up unpleasant memories.