She flashes her blue eyes at him, perhaps a little coolly, but not altogether cold. She's curious, mostly. It's not polite to bring the bedroom into conversation where she's from, but she don't feel the urge to say so.

"We weren't, neither one of us, ourselves that night."

One more literally than the other.

"It don't matter a lick now. I got no quarrel with you, so long as you got none with me. In the spirit of the 'belated' season, I say we let bygones be bygones."