[He snorts and puts his hand over Boone's face and gives him a light shove, but not hard enough to dislodge his glasses.] Shhhhh Iiii'm not so good at English. And I am not so English when I am drink. Drunk. Good at English. Shhhh.

Hey! Have you met Bertie? I know Bertie. There is so much English that comes out of him.

Am I supposed to understand it?

I can't tell. [He presses his hand to his temple, and takes another sip of whisky, even if Boone's beret is a blur. He should stop now. He'll stop now, because he's pretty sure he's not going to be able to get up.]