Now Val makes a noise of vexation deep in his throat. The haughty expression on his face has by now well and truly soured into an irritated scowl. He breaks the cross of his arms to gesture impatiently.

"Can I trust you to get on with it? Monsieur! I detest dancing, even in the appropriate contexts and situations. Kindly cease this prance of yours and tell me what it is you want so that I can tell you that I can be trusted with it. For I can, quite obviously, be trusted!"