[Her protests—how naturally she would prefer to have nothing to do with officials of government—die behind her teeth, and for a moment Wysterua has no ready response for him. Then she turns very red indeed and makes to snatch her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, attempting it with both hands until the weight of Ribbon at her wrist has her fumbling—]

No, thank you. It is quite all right. I like it as it is. Goodnight, Monsieur and I look forward to your notes. And wish you the best of luck with your exploration of the Kirkwall caverns. Good night.