[ irene sighs, as if she'd been trying to feed him life-giving sustenance rather than a piece of cake, settling the plate and the fork carefully on the table, before leaning her head on her hand, moving a bit closer towards him. very well, mr. holmes, have no cake. all the better for her, she could observe him better this way.

still, her ever-present smile only widens at his question. ]

Oh, darling. Ever the innocent.

[ her tongue flicks out to catch a stray of imaginary chocolate at the corner of her lips, purposeful. ]

You don't honestly believe that we talk, do you? There are many other things a man and a woman can get up to that are infinitely more .. exciting. The talking comes after.