She wishes it didn't bother her so much that she can't hear him when he speaks. But he doesn't seem to want to dwell on it, and this is the wrong time to call attention to it, so she turns her focus to the gift in her hands.

When she pulls out the gloves, she grins to herself and puts them on. "They're perfect, Steve." A bit feminine, perhaps, but it will be amusing to see the knit pattern left in some scientist's face. She flexes her fingers, getting a feel for the fit. "Thank you."

She pauses a moment. It isn't her Steve. She's come to terms with that. Or... Okay, so she hasn't. It still takes her a moment every time she sees him to remember that this isn't her Steve, and it hurts all over again. But this is Peggy's Steve, and she wants Peggy to be happy. Even if it isn't her Peggy, either.

"And so you know, that wine should be good for a date."