She glances at him sidelong, half-laughing at the look on his face, half pretending to be coolly assessing him. "Oh, not too terrible. I rather miss the facial hair, though, I do confess."

It is close to the bone and faintly painful, but Mina carries it off with a graceful nod and an attempt at wry humour: "A mere what, five or six and twenty years between us? Shockingly little compared to whatever little trollop you're making time with."