The more Tony watched, the more he doubted that this was someone he knew, which made the refusal to talk even more inexplicable. Maybe they couldn't, like Celty--was that Celty? Definitely not. Tony would have recognized her figure even under a duvet. "No?" he interpreted. "No, this isn't a party? Come on, we're one striking gal away from an all-timer, don't be so hard on yourself." He had stopped, though, casually tucking his hands into his pockets in a sharp contrast to the electric stare he levelled at the mime.