Effy has noticed the well-styled woman, watching from the corner of her eye, listing to the sound of heels clicking on pavement. A vaguely unsettled feeling has begun mounting in the back of her mind, and she can't completely reason out why -- some feeling of...not-rightness that makes her wary. Maybe it's the way she's dressed, the way everything about her looks so clean and orderly. It's weird.

Effy, by contrast, still has a cigarette hanging from her lips, torn paper edges scattered across the floor beneath her boots. She's busy tearing one sheet now, into thin lines that curl as she rips them from the rest of the paper. "Keep it, if you want." The lines of that star are way less pristine than the lines of Gaby's dress. "Maybe someday it'll be worth something."

Origami is not her strong suit, clearly -- the only way she could get the paper into that shape was to tear it up. But dry sarcasm clearly is one of her talents.