So he was someone from the publishing house. Jules wanted to know his name, but she didn't feel as though he'd left any good avenue open for her to ask, so she might have to poke at this conversation a little more in order to get to that point.

"Oh? What do you do that gets you advanced copies of lycanthropy research?" she asked, as though she didn't know. He didn't look particularly like any of the people she typically wrote to at the publishing house — or, rather, he didn't look like the way she had imagined any of them. She had rather a vivid imagination and had detailed facial features for everyone she regularly corresponded with; it made them feel more human. Especially her subjects.

(She'd had to adjust her mental image of A recently when she got a bit of his hair — she'd been picturing him with something slightly lighter).