Marianne does give that some thought, reaching for her wine glass before she shakes her head.

"Maybe one day," she says. "We can swap and see if it makes a difference."

It's a thing, to be looked at like that by him, to be really scrutinised. There's something about the clear grey of his eyes that reminds her of the way the sea sometimes looked in Sligo. It makes her homesick in the same breath as she finds it faintly comforting.