"Port?" Suddenly Geraint’s look was different. There was an element of mischief on his angular, handsome face, a look that said, in effect, "I haven’t seen you in years. We may have work to do, and time may be pressing, and these may be very elegant surroundings, but we’re going to get smashed anyway, horribly hog-whimperingly smashed." There was also the undercurrent of That way you’ll tell me everything I might be interested in.