‘You’ll manage’? [He speaks dryly, though not unkindly.] Those words instil such confidence in me.
[Without another word, Geralt rises from the bar, walks over to the table, retrieves a few small platters – including the one with prawns, of course – and returns to his seat, laying the food out in a messy row. He starts picking at the seafood platter, looking expectantly at Julian.
He understands not wanting to accept help; he's done that himself often enough. But he also understands that going to bed hungry out of politeness, or to save face, or for any other reason is pure idiocy.]
It's inexcusably impolite to eat in front of someone you're conversing with without sharing your fare. So sit. We're both gentlemen, after all.
no subject
[Without another word, Geralt rises from the bar, walks over to the table, retrieves a few small platters – including the one with prawns, of course – and returns to his seat, laying the food out in a messy row. He starts picking at the seafood platter, looking expectantly at Julian.
He understands not wanting to accept help; he's done that himself often enough. But he also understands that going to bed hungry out of politeness, or to save face, or for any other reason is pure idiocy.]
It's inexcusably impolite to eat in front of someone you're conversing with without sharing your fare. So sit. We're both gentlemen, after all.