[Did Hilda put him, like, 400 Chroma in debt? Yes. Does Hilda look all that bothered by it? Nah. She's living for this—loving that awkward choke, bud—and thus she decides to keep right on goin'.]

Punch me? [Her eyes widen in a most dramatic fashion, free hand coming to press against her chest. Quelle horreur! ] You wouldn't hit a delicate maiden after she helped you, would you?

[She thinks not, so as she tilts her head to the side, demurely looking down at her champagne glass:]

A pretty maiden. Do you really want me to leave?

[Flirting with old men, Hilda? For shame.]