[Ah, her anxiety flares anew. Or stronger, anyway.]

Steady on now, Sprezzatura.

[He sets his pipe down, letting its smoke lazily eke upwards, on the mantle. Then he moves to stand in her pacing path to reach out an offered, steadying hand.]

Of course she knows we are not alike in appearances, but what does that matter? Yes, she may stare for a moment or two, but only in fascination and admiration. But if it is rejection you so dearly fear, there will be none of it in this flat. I would bet my entire career as a great detective on it!