Oh, she knows more evasion when she hears it, and a poorly veiled attempt at it too. Glancing down at the pastry in her hands, impulse worms its way up from the back of her brain and, with nary a thought and staring at Ben, she shoves the entire custard tart into her mouth, her cheeks bulging like a hamster even as she stares Ben down.

"There, my plate is empty." Her words are ridiculously contorted by the pastry, "Now we can talk more."