"...Still with the peanut gallery in your head?"

A cool dispassionate interest sliced its way across her impatience. Her body, which had been turned towards the door and readied to walk out on him, angled back to face Horner. She'd assumed that little probably had cleared up along with the lack of vision. But, then again, her most significant conversation with Horner since she's shaved him had mostly involved a lot of vegetable talk and some very regrettable teenaged flirting.