Mrs. Shinawatra rakes X with a glance -- it's no more dubious than anyone else gets -- and returns the same look to Trowa.

What she sees is someone who's clearly vouched for by Trowa. Private speculation or not, the circus is a tight-knit and insular community, and that's all any of its members will really ask.

"The usual ones, I suppose?" she asks, and Trowa nods. She sniffs. "All right. Names?"

"Duo Maxwell," Trowa says, and Mrs. Shinawatra nods in recognition. "And X."

X gets a slightly more dubious glance, when nothing more is forthcoming.