Joli stares at Lon's face as he explains the metaphor, which she initially greeted with a skeptical smirk but, by the time he's finished, she's listening with glistening eyes.  "I,"  she tries to find words, then simply takes his hand.  Her fingers are strong and slender, warm as they wrap around his wrist.   "That's really beautiful..." she murmurs, looking very childlike despite her womanly aspects.  She lifts his hand to her mouth, kisses it.  "I think you..."  her voice catches.  Clearly this is not the woman he knew last night, but she's in there-- somewhere behind that shell of nervousness and awkwardness is the libertine he helped awaken.  "I, ah," looking aside, away, nervously.  "I think you might be gold."<br/><br/>She then hurries ahead, releasing his hand and fidgeting with her hair.