Had he not said her name Sybil wouldn't have glanced upward, used to the coming and going of the other library patrons. Seeing him though causes her to flush, her cheeks a dark rose even though the sun here has brought some colour to her rather pale skin. The last time she saw him was under a set of rather unusual and improper circumstances, and as much as she might never admit it, she has found herself thinking about his somewhat undressed state in a manner that was entirely unbecoming of a lady.

"Kaine," she squares her shoulders, telling herself that she has faced worse and that her embarrassment would seem silly to him. "You are well?"

It's a reminder of that night, and she rushes for something else to talk of, "the library has records. Thank you. For the phonograph."