Of course he would notice and latch on to her reaction to the hat. She'd tried to suppress it, but it had been shocking to see and she hadn't been able to keep it completely under wraps.

"It's not mine," she mutters. She rubs her cheek, sets the clothes down, and picks up her cane and the hat so she can go to the dresser and put it away. After doing so she straightens and turns to face him. He's so intense about such things; just looking at him and his curious expression is too much and she glances off to one side. "Please don't ask me any more questions about that."

She doesn't know what threshold she'll reach where she feels more inclined to share her origin story with him—and maybe they'll never get there at all—but she knows she's not there now.