He studied her as she sipped her coffee. Passing through her thirties had been good for her; she wasn’t so painfully thin, the lines around her eyes and mouth looked like they came from laughter and smiles. At least, in fair measure. Her hands were the same as ever, great knuckled fingers more like a man’s, well-suited to sculpting the pots, ceramics, and oil burners, all the little things she made.