He's the very last man to handle jokes about his own august person well, but this doesn't smart. "Quite," he chuckles. "Like playing an instrument. And it's delicious, indeed."

Ducking away from Alex, he briskly walks on; the sooner home and back in bed, the better. "No art in arranging a meeting; she's my landlady. Try and knock at her door anytime after nightfall. She might welcome you as breakfast, you know. And yes, I intend to make you scream. Now. - Coming?"