Susan startles. Right, Laertes came here with a purpose, not to chat about Lancelot. Another question has occurred to her, but she supposes she needn't ask it if it's going to be off topic now. And anyway, she shouldn't want to hold him up if he's got things to do. "You have a better sense about what Sagramore likes," she says, suddenly more subdued, and peruses the offerings, pulling aside several bottles: a small one of rum, the half-bottle of brandy, two types of wine, and several strange liqueurs. "Any one of these ought to get him to the levels he typically takes."