Refined lyrium, housed within a block of— [she's gotten far enough away that the particulars of the words have flattened into a high pitched drone, receding by degrees-- wait no, it's coming back again] —must be controlled by the copper band. And if you would come with me, I would be more than happy to go over the details, but apparently we must conduct our business here in the library.

[She reappears in the doorway again, pink as the ribbon in her hair. At some point during the course of the lap, she has stripped off one of the heavy leather gloves as if she's of a mind to challenge him to satisfaction with it.]

Do you find this amusing? Is that what this is?