Once she had taken a second to assure that her hair fell neatly around her face in the wake of the mask's ribbon, brushing over the bob of it with a quick glance of her fingers, Phryne settled her attention entirely on the man before her. Well, there and on her glass.

She had forgotten nothing of the fact that he had been born and lived in a world centuries separated from her own, and yet it still struck her as an odd little hiccup of a reminder when he didn't react the way she had come to expect. Not that she had truly expected him to know what she meant with so little, but the reminder of how different their lives were was there all the same. Her lips curved in her amusement over the look of puzzlement on his face, all the same, and she explained. "I solve mysteries. Crimes, really, although I pick up the odd domestic affair here and there in need of untangling, my specialty really has become murder."