( the 'oi' and somewhat garbled 'get off' has him pausing for a moment. it's a less — feminine reaction than he'd expected or is used to, and he's not entirely sure what to make of it. it's only after she continues that he recovers, and he looks at her for a long moment, studiously and considering, before hmming and nodding slowly. ) You're right. I had been looking at you from a distance, mind — although I'll remember to make my well to the nearest optometrist when I'm back in London; it oughtn't have taken me quite so long to realise you've hardly the look of Fair Folk, inebriated or not. ( he doesn't bother to remark that appearances mean little in any realm but especially this one. if she knows anything about fey, he supposes — which he suspects he does, or else she's exceptionally paranoid — she'll be aware of that. if she's not, she'll realise it soon enough. so: )

I'm rather more used to rabbits and hats and streams of confetti and 'kerchiefs, and I dare say whatever it is that you're doing is far more effort — and waste! ( the latter is uttered with quiet exclaim, disappointment and reproach. ) — than simply ignoring it. ( another beat, though this one's punctuated by a wry smile and a glance down at his — their — feet. ) Though I am tempted to say a handkerchief wouldn't go amiss. Do you happen to have one? Ordinarily I'd avoid making assumptions ( an obvious lie, though it's paired with a deliberately wide-eyed expression of wholly, equally obviously feigned innocence, ) but we are in the land of the fey, and I don't recall you denying my previous assertion. ( assumption. )