"Did I ever say you couldn't dance on the tables?" Thomas asked, laughing a bit at the idea. "I'd rather it was you than a drunk patron, anyway- at least you'd not expressly try to destroy my pub."
At the mention of his daughter, Thomas scanned the room again. He'd had her in his sights a few minutes before, so where had she gotten off to? Aha! "There," he pointed across the room to where Bridget was sitting with an older couple- shopkeepers from town- waiting for their dinner. "Undoubtedly keeping their mind off the delayed dinner with stories of her day, I'm sure." His tone was fond, though- Bridget had learned from an early age how to interact with the customers (some of them, at least- Thomas tried to keep her away from drunks as much as possible).