The massive engine in his brain tries to turn over again.

"I." In less than a week the way he sees her has changed radically. Now there's a layer beyond the deductions: he can see her confidence sparking, bringing that hidden, fascinating, constantly evolving Molly to the surface. His next attempt at talking comes out blurred, mostly consonants running together, and he has to shake himself slightly to jar his swimming brain back into place.

(If Irene knew, she'd probably want to take notes.)

"Um. The--tapas bar. We can cab it over as soon as John gets back, that'll give us time to walk to the Opera House. That's a new dress."