That he persists with this and clearly isn't making a joke or trying to be funny, Pippa gets to her feet and moves across the room. If she's going to have to ask him to leave, she prefers to do that from a distance.

She really doesn't want things to come to that...she's known him for so long and always thought of him as such a charmingly wonderful man. And he does have a point about her hand, even if everything else he is saying is sheer madness. From her place by the window, Pippa does as he asked, looks at her hand. She brushes her fingers across the healed palm, touch light enough to tickle at first and then more firmly as it's proven that the flesh is no longer tender.

"But..." She looks over at him, at the expression on his face and carefully chooses her next words. "Ro, I'm sorry but this really is insane. Do you really expect me to believe that you're a--what did you call yourself? I don't know what to think about this." She holds up her hand, "But I do know that I haven't believed in faerytales since I was a little girl. A very little girl."