The bottle is coming down to empty, but Lancelot does take another drink. (He wouldn't much like to get back into the habit, but it does cushion him, and he has felt so bleak for the last couple of days that the respite is welcome. It's too easy to worry he might be stuck in that, again, interminably.)
"He spoke to me of thee," he says, a little absently.
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"He spoke to me of thee," he says, a little absently.