A soft little huff, one from petulant lips as she gazed at the silver and black and gold embossings, some peeling, some looking newly-printed. Perhaps not. "Florence. An' you might drop it on the 'Ma'am' bit y'rself," she allowed, looking at how Violet's skirt neatly came about her legs as she sat. "You don't have t' /watch/ me, eit'er, 'm not going t' steal anythin'." But she said this with amusement, as though the curious, reserved blue-eyed girl had seen through something in fact. She turned back to the shelf, picking out books and flipping through, skimming the words and focusing on the illustrations. She tried to slip the back in the right order, but they ended up looking muddled, uneven. "You know about these, in particular?" she asked after a long moment, in earnest. There were not so many that she might not catalogue them all, but she found herself wanting to ask Violet anyway, who looked nonplussed. "I mean, only 'cause I'm lookin' for ones wit' girls in 'em, specifically." She was incredibly straight-faced, though more outwardly animated than her companion