"Oh, stop," says Adaline, smiling when he pulls out the chair, sliding into it and brushing the curtain of blonde hair back over one shoulder. The sweater is, perhaps, a bolder colour that she'd have worn in her youth, somewhere between green and yellow, but she likes to think that she can carry it off. "You're far too kind." She tilts her hair, studying him for a moment. "You don't scrub up too badly yourself."