"Very well," he concurs with a nod of his head, always eager to do well by this woman. "Constance," he corrects himself. She had been very good to him when he'd been new to Paris and unsure whether he even wanted to go on with his life and he will never forget that -- just as he will never forget how he wishes better for her than the lot she has. "A strawberry pom mojito sounds very intensively colourful," he concurs, lifting his glass and bottle of brandy. "You'll have to excuse my tastes. I'm a far simpler man," he admits with a rueful smile.

"Is there a cause for such drinking?"