"A café would suit me nicely," he said simply, offering her a smile, drawing the black tie around his collar and forming a neat loop. His hands worked quickly, but he always had to look, no matter how many times he'd done it before -- though he spared her the occasional glance. Would they be going into Muggle London again? He hadn't asked, but part of him dreaded going back so soon when he'd scarcely recovered from his first trip there in ages. "And I know several people with bottomless pits in the place of stomachs," he teased. He seemed to have the opposite problem.
Over his tie, which he straightened and tightened, his brows furrowed a bit at her in the mirror, considering the object of payment. He always found discussion of money to be awkward, and this was no different. Ordinarily, he would have summarily objected to the idea of allowing a woman to pay for a meal, but he didn't know her, and the less this seemed like a romantic interlude, the better -- he had little choice, then, but to agree, though the tightness of his lips spoke to how unusual he felt this was.
"If you prefer that, certainly." And he turned. "All ready."