Martha catches her drink before it spills, though it's nearly time for a refill anyway, though she pauses before she takes a fresh sip. The Scotsman is in full regalia, kilted and the like (and Martha is not going to ask him about his underwear, she is not), so a moment or two of appreciation is required.

Just for a moment, though, and a smile; she's not rude.

"No worries," she says, and it's like taking off a coat, somehow, speaking to someone who's at least from the same island--even if it's the other end of it. Words come easier, a little. "It's the kind of night where we're all pretty much in the same boat."