*Barty, even 'entubbed' and frothy with rabid minty freshness, is his, and his hands float nervously upward looking for somewhere to rest or hold on to as Bella attempts to change that. His words are mostly drowned out by hers, but what he lacks in authority he makes up for in the surge of anxiety filling the room. If he were really a man, perhaps he'd close the bathroom door at least, instead he dithers and whisperingly raves.*