"I think she's got more than enough barmen at her service, Monsieur." Slater sidled up to the two of them, fully groomed and in his best attire. Nobody would ever guess that this man was the overlord of underground London, the leader of the South Bank just by looking at him. A few faces in the area certainly appeared to recognise him but Slater ignored them for the moment. He didn't bother changing his voice - if the poshies didn't like it that was their problem - and so when he spoke he was gruff but with an air of utmost control. "Still, if you're going to grab a few glasses bring me one as well, would you? Can't socialise when the throat's turned to sandpaper."