[ If Irving seems at all offended to have his... performance so clearly called into question, and in fact perhaps also the legitimacy of any of his so-called prior experience at all, it's somewhat diluted by the growing redness in his face, the tense discomfort that's very visibly building in his expression and posture. The mortifying ordeal of discussing his sex life with Cornelius Hickey.

Irving takes a long moment to try composing himself behind his tea cup, happy to slurp down more of whatever secret ingredient has been so effectively relaxing him up to now-- never mind the less ideal "truthfulness" side effects, but Irving hasn't yet connected that aspect with the drinks anyway. ]

As I have said to you before, courtship and marriage is of little interest to me-- I do not have want nor need for female companionship. Beyond, of course, what shall inevitably become simply a... means to an end, while we're here. Though nothing more than that.

[ So far he is conveniently still not addressing what Hickey is actually getting at, but Irving's just about run down the clock for how much longer he can continue doing so.

His protest, when it finally does come, is rather weak in comparison to all his earlier objections, voice significantly more quiet. ]

Do not suggest such things.