Her laugh is quiet but not precisely subdued -- measured, and it's less like artifice precisely (although she is that, but so good at it now) than it is a kind of benevolent distance. She's so present and still always at a remove.

“I will,” she decides, lifting her drink in a brief salute, assessing him over the glass's rim, still smiling. “But now I am curious. What do you make of the nature of the place? When you're not abandoning young women to it.”