"You hardly suppose? You mean you do not know?" Angela teased, before remembering about the potion and its attendant affects on Gilbert's mind, and she winced, "Sorry." A genuine apology was a rarity from her; she preferred to play off incidents of offense.
"That and a sleeping draught will cure my insomnia quite nicely, yes," She said with a twinkle in her eye. Angela was serious, however. He needed some sort of countermeasure, "The more people know, the more you risk the wrong person knowing."
Angela stood, robes settling against her body in a sensation that was still strange, but becoming ever more familiar, rather like this old friendship, "Was there anything else you needed to discuss with me?" She nipped on a fingernail in an old nervous habit.