[Please know that Lorenz holds up his notebook and Hilda promptly bites the inside of her cheek. Hard. All of that space! That incredibly dramatic L!]

Oh, wow! [Softly, with Feeling:] Wow. Lorenz...

[No, no. She needs an extra second, hence the sip (re: quick gulp) of rosé she takes as she ensures her giggles are tamped the fuck down. This is endearing, actually? Further proof that Lorenz is just like everyone else.]

I've always wondered how you come up with such great ideas, and now I understand. Your mind is so— [EMPTY] —f-free.

[She did not softly snort into her wine glass there. No, sir.]