V isn't the kind of girl who mentions the chinks, the fine-haired cracks which spread, in another person's unruffled demeanor. She just isn't. She notices them, and takes care not to apply pressure; perhaps because she doesn't want somebody, like Dmitri, to splinter. Break. Fragment into a million tiny little pieces, never be put together again.

The rhyme never says Humpty Dumpty was an egg...

"Where have you been?" she says, after they've walked in silence for long enough that it might begin to become awkward -- after the look of disorientation surges and then subsides, just a little.