The touch of his fingertips along the curvature of her hand brings quiet images to her mind; Catulus's face, his sense of frustration ebbing through the contact before contact broken, he goes on.<br/><br/>Making her way with delicate step Sibyl stands against the bar, a hand lightly caressing the worked wood.  Fleeting images of past hands upon it floating through her.  Hands holding refreshment from behind the bar, hands holding other hands, hands working the wood itself.<br/><br/>Her attention shifting away from the images Sibyl brings her thoughts to Catulus, to his words.  The disturbance of a few moments past etching minute lines of worry through her.  Sudden actions giving little to no warning always difficult for her, she squares her shoulders a little bringing her focus back to center as he speaks.<br/><br/>Cocking her head to the side giving her full ear to the sounds about her gives no further indication of aggression from the woman having been carried to her alcove.  Sibyl turns her quiet countenance to bare on those left to ponder Catulus's words after he makes good his exit.<br/><br/>"She will be a problem if she cannot learn to control her outbursts.  I care not how highly recommended she came, if she is given to sudden fits she is worthless for naught but bed warmer."  A casual shrug of her shoulders bringing the gold in her jewelry to light, soft glints casting visual echos across the chamber. "Not that I have such need from a female, but others may."