His eyes were fixed on the meandering pattern on the carpet at his feet, his head lowered with an ironic smile to let her whisper, if she liked - and he didn't move when she came nearer, though his smile widened by a fraction of an inch. There was something so intensely satisfying about that, about everything that was settled into that moment, that he felt like he probably shouldn't move. He remembered very clearly that at one time he had had a certain knack for ruining things.
"That is an excellent point," he said after a moment, lifting his head to look her in the eye again, his straight face pulling away from him. "You are answering my mail, aren't you. I'm half buried under it."