"Several sorts," Theo told her, then began the familiar recitation. "Balmorals and beanies, berets and bowlers..." Well. She likely wouldn't be interested in all that. "What type do you like?" He wanted to wince at that stretch of a rhyme, as it didn't settle quite right in his mouth.
The expression on her face distracted him, though, and he tilted his head at her. "Is something silly?"