"I didn't say that to egg you on," he says sourly, and takes a morose drink of his drink. "I really, really didn't." He's not propping anyone up as they sway home, either. And if they make him mobilicorpus them he's bumping their heads into any convenient low-hanging branches.
"I suppose you could say we put him up to it," he says judiciously, "if your definition doesn't extend beyond not killing him last time we were here. It makes sense if you realize," he realizes, now that he's stated the question aloud, "that some people will go to a pub who'd never bother with a restaurant, I suppose."