[ Peter rests both elbows on the table, chin resting in his hands long enough to say in a wondering sort of voice, ] Madigan, you’re the prettiest girl in the world.

[ But the act is short-lived, once Madigan changes the topic, and he drops one hand, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. ]

Noted and appreciated. But it’s not like I’ve got anywhere to go or anyone to go with. I’m good.