Susan takes a delicate sip of her tea and sets her empty cup gently to the side. "I think it's dreadful. No - that's the politic thing to say. I think it's jolly unacceptable. If Bacchus hadn't pointed out the risk of confronting a man who can cause such harm, unprovoked and unannounced at a distance - whilst not even in the same room! Not even close enough to be confronted with the reality of the damage he's causing! - I swear I could've marched right up to him and boxed his ears." Her anger makes her bright, focused. "Was it dreadful? I keep picturing it. Bacchus wasn't clear on what precisely happened, besides some sort of - some sort of magical blood infection which caused tremendous pain?"