Sonia's eyes widen just slightly as he prods gently at the subject she's been neatly skirting around, though her smile doesn't waver. Mercifully, he doesn't pursue it, changing tack, and her face positively glows. In Sonia's book, dance is code for anything but -- well, sometimes actual dancing, too. But she doubts even Byerly would be that forward in broad daylight, however entertaining the thought, so she keeps on playing the coquette, her smile widening.

"At every available opportunity," she says, but then adds, regretfully, "but I don't get many."