[He takes that in without direct response. And so what does she use her coin on? He suspects she doesn't mean something else like dresses or fine boots. He's already painting the picture, one splash of color at a time, of who he thinks she might be. It's a slow bit of work when one meets someone new, but it is sometimes the most enjoyment he has in a day.

So far, he has her not cold, but... reserved. More than most women are around him (not to blow his own horn about it or anything.) Wary. Wary, but --

Ah. There it is. Still her soft spots, with those blushing cheeks.]

The bright blues of the sky, or the shadows of the ocean? I sense you enjoy something a bit murkier -- something with its facets and cracks. [Not that this necklace has any of those; a fine merchant would never allow it.] The sort of stone that feels much more real than one that appears as perfection.