[Though he's curious, he won't pry any more than what she's comfortable telling him - unless, of course, she dwells on it far longer than indicated and he finds out about it. Just before he can reply in commiseration from having encountered the drunken idiot himself, she asks the question. And by turning to look at her, he can tell she's more than a little bothered by the topic.]

[His disdain for Guzma is turning into anger.]

What? Did he tell you that? [Irritation clear in his voice, though he tones it down as he continues.] Of course not. You have more personality than he does foolish remarks.

[So, tons.]

...You don't believe him, do you?