Sidor's eyebrow quirked in the blackness, the movement half-formed. He wondered quite what deserved that oddly poetic response about the moon. Had his English been poor? No... Kharoshii vecher... Good evening. Hm. Perhaps it was an American thing.
"Miss Lawrence, you were the one who was shouting about religion, not I," he said, with a little shrug. "I am not entirely certain where you got this strange impression of me as a screaming, violent maniac. I certainly never raised my voice; anger is a waste of time, as is holding a grudge over someone possessing a temper."