"Um..." Panic mode time. There's no completely graceful way to answer a question about a woman's age. She looks Mary up and down, worries with her fingers, and has to spend a long time thinking about it. "Twenty-six?" she ventures. It's hard to tell, her features are still quite childlike even to Genevieve's eyes, but twenty-six seems a good guess when you want to avoid offending someone. If she's younger it might be a compliment. If she's older, even more so.