Something's not right. Her restless stalking around in circles does nothing to reassure him. He asks what's wrong. She stares at him, furious. Furious that she doesn't know. Furious that he expects a response to a question she can't answer. And that fury strikes the point of least resistance. Inwardly he flinches even as he adopts a bored expression and turns his attention back to the newspaper. Something much easier to understand.