"Baroness Cora..." He starts to ask, a flicker of.. of something lighting his eyes, but the thought fades away as he steps into the tavern, with a low whistle of appreciation at the well-tended bar. He steps forward, running a hand over the polished bartop - then, leaning forward with a effortless motion, one hand atop the bar to swing himself up and over it and land lightly behind the counter - looking at home as he turns and bustles, picking up a bottle and checking the label before setting it slightly aside in a different place, giving the seltzer pump a quick 'spritz' to check the pressure, and then turning to give Delores a wide smile. "Yes, yes, this will do nicely. Now, of course, the interview. What is your poison, my dear? A figure of speech, of course, of course."