"Twelve? I assure you, Eward, I drank only five, and took another five with me." He says, bringing a hand to rest above his heart. "I swear it." He says, although his eyes follow the movement of the bottle. "Although you're a sod. I don't keep anything you enjoy from you, do I? I sent you that pretty little thing last night."
"What a horrible question to ask. I would be devastated, Eward. Terribly so. I might even go into mourning. You'd leave me something, wouldn't you?" He asks.