Though she wanted to believe him every inch of her was screaming it was wrong. Lysander was drunk he had no idea what he was doing. It was an infatuation, it was lust - anything to rationalize this. Nobody was this passionate without some alcoholic fuel to add to the fire.
"You are drunk," she said, shaking her head. "You are exaggerating this... it is no more than lust and need, your mind is fogged by brandy..."