As far as Greta's concerned, she hasn't done anything unusually intimate - certainly not by the standards she and her friends set back home, when they were younger. It could be argued that she should have outgrown such closeness with her peers, but this is a special case - both because there's no husband or child to claim the bulk of her affection here, and because Iman's having a difficult time and could use the extra care (whether she'd ever admit to needing it or not). And if she didn't want the attention, she'd say so, wouldn't she? It's not as if she hasn't rebuked a kind advance before.

Greta's inclined to take the silence as companionable, at least until she glances over and sees Iman looking a bit anxious, as if this is all a more serious undertaking than it ought to be. Rather than ask if she's all right - that would just be inviting a lie - she ventures, "I've been experimenting with flour." It's not terribly interesting, but it's not supposed to be. She's just nattering in the hopes of putting her friend a little more at ease. "Did you know they've made flour out of coconuts - those giant, hairy-looking things at the market? I can't imagine how they do it."