This was his first dinner with Elise Don, a dinner particularly valued by the French, and Hans felt an indescribable thrill in his heart.
However, he was a reserved person, still a teacher in terms of his identity, careful about the boundaries, since he didn't want to end up as sleazy as Townsend.
"How does it feel to be in your second year of graduate studies?" he found a suitable topic.
"It's okay." Elise Don sprinkled some chili sauce on her noodles and smiled as she looked up, "Because I skipped a whole year, I feel quite distanced from my second-year classmates, often asking professors this and that. I wonder if it might bother them."
"Of course not," Hans said resolutely, "Every student who asks questions is a teacher's favorite."
"Otherwise, having a teacher up there performing a monologue can be pretty awkward," he self-deprecatingly added, "like me."
Elise Don laughed, only seeing his remark as self-mockery, without any disdain for his awkwardness.
