[Monts doesn't mind the quiet. She's examining the various remedies or what's left with some mild interest. When the fortuneteller whirs and produces the slip of paper with its cloying phrase, she reads it and lets out a huff with a smile.]
Hey, Faust?
[She crumples up the paper and tosses it over her shoulder.]
no subject
Hey, Faust?
[She crumples up the paper and tosses it over her shoulder.]
Do you like coffee or tea?