[She turns, folding her hands in front of her, a perfect, pink, manicured nail tapping on her elbow and there's almost a predatory glint in her eyes when she regards him now. She'll address the 'borrowed' jacket later.]

Is it so hard for you to believe that you are standing in the presence of a goddess that you've resorted to calling me a liar? There is only one of those in this tent, and it is not myself, Dear.