She stuck the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheek, then licked her teeth as he entered the kitchen. Without looking up at him, with eyebrows raised and a strange calm, she sipped her tea. It was good tea, indeed. Pippa set the cup on the saucer and started to smear jam across the crust of bread. Clicking her tongue, she finally looked at him and set the food down, dusted her fingers of crumbs, then stood and turned toward him.

"Oh, it's you," she said. "I would like to return something to you." She paused and produced the letter, holding the folded sheaf up only briefly, before she quickly slapped the object, not hard, but firmly enough, against his hand. That was indication enough that she had read it and he needn't even ask. Then she breezed passed him, head held high in a dignified manner. She retrieved a cup and saucer for him, as well as a spoon, and she moved to set it, also firmly, onto the table.

Then she whirled around on him, seething. "You're the closest thing I have to family right now, so I say this with all the care in the world, but you... would tell me that -I- play a dangerous game... while you, yourself, play with fire by keeping such literature as you have in your hand," she said this with a hissed whisper so only he could hear. "You ought to be more careful. Had I not found it on the floor when I was cleaning, had I not gotten worried enough to want to make sure you hadn't dropped something important... I didn't even mean to read it myself! But someone else could have found this, doctor, and you would be in some trouble."