Helena looked away when he called her 'my dear.' She was not his dear, she was no one's dear, much to the dislike of the Baron and her mother. She didn't want to say anything out loud though, unsure if he would take offense to her words.
"I will have some of the rum and fruit drink once I finish this second glass," she said after he had already started pouring her a new glass. "Words to live by, hm? Whose words are they?" That was a curious statement, to be sure. And if it were even the tiniest bit true, she couldn't imagine the person who had done the research on such a topic. Night after night, drinking and drinking until sick, or clear, as it may have been. That person's life must not have been one to dwell on.