"Indeed. I don't know much about the woman myself. So probably about what you'd expect from Auror-types. Except, you know, female." Caractacus had been in this time long enough to pick up a few speech mannerisms.
Caractacus shrugged when she spoke about the money; after all, his ideas of money were much different than hers, and would likely forever be so.
He frowned at her over his drink, "I prefer not to be so crude about it, Miss Hitchens." Caractacus still couldn't keep the blush from deepening, "If by which you mean you bed hop. I never understood why Henry put up with that." He groused, though without any true hard feelings, "Or at least locked the door." He took another swig.
Only to choke on the Firewhiskey, "WHAT?! OF COURSE NOT! NO!" He denied again, even more emphatically, redfaced and bug-eyed.