Atticus' thin smile doesn't fade. No, she certainly is not a fool.

He sets the translation back down on the table before him and slides it carefully across to her. "Well, I am obliged to assist you in that effort, if it pleases you, Madame de Cedoux," he says, then relaxes back into his seat to steeple his fingers neatly in front of himself. "You know where you may find me, if you require my knowledge in the future."