[She screws up her face a little at the sight, amused, trying not to laugh out loud at poor Iona's fall.]

Oh, come on. Let a girl say "fuck" if she wants to.

[Lyra, you're not helping.

But she finds a seat near the front, easing both elbows on the table and lacing her fingers together. She rests her chin atop that.]

I'm glad the door showed up for me. I was really getting curious.