[He glances down at the pencil she sets aside, but politeness has him keep his curiosity to himself for now. And his desire for a good stiff drink keeps him from giving in to his politeness and fully excusing himself from the interruption entirely. Offering her a smile instead in turn.]

Perhaps it is. Perhaps in time I will finally adjust to the idea of it as well.

[He steps across the room, reaching for the decanter and taking down a glass before turning to glance at her over his shoulder. Thinking of offering her a glass in turn, but then she already has a mug herself.]

I will be out of your hair, if that is how you would prefer it. Though I do apologize, I do not know your name.