"Oh, sweet Circe, you’re not wearing an undershirt. Um, here," she slammed his shirt into his chest with such force that the wind was knocked from him. He was glad that he’d continued to glamor the scars and that she hadn’t seen them. "I’m sorry, you must be so embarrassed. Well, not that you have anything to be embarrassed over, you’re very fit. I mean, not that I was looking, but I did happen to notice. You have a very nice chest, and you shouldn’t be ashamed of showing it off. Godric, I need to stop talking. Yes, well," she stammered, before she bent over with her bum right in the air as she scooped up the contents of her bag.