[Upon reading the first line of his reply, her frustration all but abates. The statement is a simple, but there's vulnerability in the admission. And a reminder that his life experiences have most certainly been very different than her own. His face, well, it certainly wouldn't go unnoticed among a crowd and had not she reacted negatively to his appearance just days prior? She feels foolish, chastened, even though there had been no reprimand in his reply.

She considers her own reply carefully before setting pen to paper.]

I am sorry, Angel. I meant no harm and beg you forgive me my imprudence. I wished only to get to know you. Surely, you see how strange the situation is in which we find ourselves, do you not?

You know much of me, and I so little of you. I am most curious to learn and it seems that curiosity is not as harmless as it is intended. Again, forgive me. Perhaps, in time, you will find it easier to share. If so, know that I am prepared to listen.

[The apology is, surprisingly enough, easier than the answer to his question, and, again, she ponders for a moment before writing her reply.]

I do not. But what else would you have seen when you first came upon me? I know quite well that I was no great dancer and my voice was rough from disuse. As we have just discussed, you are inclined to presume the worst upon an initial meeting, so I do not know what would have drawn your eye to such an unremarkable creature.