"Miss Rochester." Harry says quietly, turning slightly to the side, looking out onto the dancing guests and lowering his voice. "She and her friend were discussing you, earlier." He explains, admitting he had eves dropped over a small section of the ladies conversation.
"If you haven't yet, you should. You both seem unhappy about the situation." He adds, taking a sip of his own drink, a particularly fine scotch. "I am sorry about our own disagreement, Eward, but I do not like seeing you like this."