"Do not blame me for this," Strange said with a wave of his hand as he took a seat opposite Mr Parker. The ambitious yet vague gesture was intended to indicate the chamber at large, the wider environs of Sanditon itself and the harlequin in particular, though perhaps some of that was rather lost in the translation.
As soon as the other gentleman was done with the bottle Strange reclaimed it, long limbs settling back in his chair in what can best be described as a quasi-dignified manner of slouch. He eyed his companion over the rim of his glass as he drank, less out of anger or any sense of rebuke and more because he feared another sortie to snatch his wine bottle. "You surely cannot believe that I had it in mind for a troupe of theatrical vagabonds to take over the town. I merely said that the perhaps the place might use a bit of entertainment."
Perhaps he had, in fact, said it multiple times. Perhaps he had said it in front of the elder Mr Parker. And perhaps the one or two of the remarks may have been accompanied by a humorous anecdote about a low, pantomime type of show that he had seen in his Cambridge days that had quite changed the mood of what had been until that point a perfectly dismal holiday. What of it? Surely there had been no harm done.
"Do not pretend that I am responsible for your own brother's actions, Parker." This last was said with an air of finality and as Strange spoke he pushed the wine bottle back across the table as a sort of peace offering.