Ben didn't recognize the woman who approached him, but she clearly knew who he was — or rather, who Aldous was. Which meant he theoretically ought to know her name, as well, or at least what she did. Hopefully it wouldn't come up. Reuben recognized the Ministry robes, of course, but if there was any kind of insignia or identification to be gleaned from her outfit other than the obvious, he was rather oblivious to it. He stopped, hesitating awkwardly, then remembered he was supposed to have a limp and leaned a bit more noticeably on his cane.

Chizpurfle. He knew what those were, didn't he? It seemed like the sort of thing that had come up at some point in his life. Didn't it have something to do with magical creatures? He seemed to think he'd dealt with them during the months he'd been working with the Walsh's farm in America, but immediately doubted his own memories. What could anything in Aldous' division ever have to do with magical farm creatures from America? If they weren't some sort of magical flea/tick amalgamation, however, Ben had no idea what they were, much less how to handle the chizpurfle matter.

"Oh, uh, my apologies, Miss," he said, hoping it was in fact Miss and not 'Mrs.' "I thought Macnair had already dealt with it."

Macnair was someone who worked for Aldous, wasn't he? Not that Ben had any experience with the Macnair in question whatsoever; the only reason he stuck out in his mind as opposed to all of Aldous' other employees was that he also had one of Those Family Names that people were just generally supposed to recognize. The only other employee Ben knew off the top of his head was Macmillan, for similar reasons, but he did know that Macmillan was more high-ranking than the average Ministry peon, and since he still didn't know what the chizpurfle matter was, he was hesitant to throw Macmillan under the bus by supposedly assigning it to him.