Theodore knew a half-truth when he heard it, and though he didn't register his suspicions on his face, curiosity drifted into his eyes, into the corners of his lips. He weaved it in with a mostly-real concern, and looked between her and the book, attempting to put together pieces of a puzzle he didn't have any sort of grasp on. This was not the self-assured, personable woman he remembered -- and even if they weren't close, he remembered that much with certainty. She could still have been recovering, of course, but that didn't necessitate secrecy.
"What do you find most interesting?" He asked, leaning in -- ostensibly to take a sip of tea, but also to give their conversation the affect of privacy. He certainly wasn't about to ask outright what was troubling her, but he could circle the question until he had a hint, at least.