Humble taste. Is there anything worse in the world? But he supposes he should be grateful—more for him, generally speaking.
"I can work with this," Desidério declares, as if this is a major albeit repairable fault on Vanya's part. Which, of course, it is.
He extracts one of the bottles, closes the cabinet with a thump of the door in its pocket, and rises while cracking the seal of wax. The cork is worked free. And, because he is somewhat suspicious of further disappointment at this stage, he gives the neck of the bottle a suspicious sniff. It would be his luck to have paid a small fortune for vinegar.
But the stuff must prove passable to the nose, for Desidério gives the man in the doorway an expectant head jerk. Well don't just stand there loitering.
"I just have the one cup. If you keep you own, then you may as well fetch it."
no subject
"I can work with this," Desidério declares, as if this is a major albeit repairable fault on Vanya's part. Which, of course, it is.
He extracts one of the bottles, closes the cabinet with a thump of the door in its pocket, and rises while cracking the seal of wax. The cork is worked free. And, because he is somewhat suspicious of further disappointment at this stage, he gives the neck of the bottle a suspicious sniff. It would be his luck to have paid a small fortune for vinegar.
But the stuff must prove passable to the nose, for Desidério gives the man in the doorway an expectant head jerk. Well don't just stand there loitering.
"I just have the one cup. If you keep you own, then you may as well fetch it."