"Ever the charmer, aren't you?" Sylvia regained her stiff, distrustful stance and put her free hand in her jacket pocket.

"How I answer depends on what you want to hear. Inevitably, you're going to say you want to hear the truth, so I will answer by saying that I'd like to learn as much about you as I can so as to have information that I can apply to future situations. For example," Sylvia took on a sardonic, almost menacing tone. "I now know that you are emotionally weak, being all upset over not being able to go to your sister's funeral. And here I was beginning to like you. You know, there are harder things in the world than not being [i] privileged [/i] enough to go to someone's funeral." 

Sylvia began to redden, her volume increasing, her gesticulations becoming more violent, though she was still making sure to avoid attention from others.

"[i] Some [/i] people have to watch as their sibling is stabbed for trying to protect them. Some people have the pleasure of being able to watch their only sibling's bloodied corpse thrown into a filthy lake, in an effort to, 'hide the evidence'. Some people end up being despised by their parents, because [i] they [/i] end up being blamed for their sibling going missing. Some people's sibling never get a funeral!"

Sylvia was losing her sense of tact.

"How do you think that would make me-" Sylvia caught herself. "[i]some people [/i]feel, knowing that people like you are mourning your sister who was at least honored after her death, and then you have the audacity to question [i] someone [/i] when they just ask a simple question?"

Sensing her failure to maintain her often tranquil nature, Sylvia sighed in disappointment. She returned to her quiet, sarcastic tone of voice.

"Anything else you'd like to share, or am I too suspicious to be trusted with the valuable information about your family?"