(... And she was so close to ending this conversation with her composure intact.)

Her face goes pale and blank; behind it, her mind races, but it feels like a mouse on a freestanding wheel, spinning uselessly and moving nowhere. She doesn't know him at all is the problem, doesn't know what kind of response would please him, bore him, amuse him, make him angry -- no, she's seen at least some of what makes him angry, hasn't she?

She nods, draws a breath that's slow and only a little unsteady. "Then I see why you'd have no need to ask. I thank you for your time, sir, and I'll take my leave of you."