"The sorbet is a good idea," he agrees. So two solacefruit sorbets and a glass of water it is. The Mycologist pays, even leaves a good tip as an apology of half of the coins not being the Bazaar currency. Mostly it is surface, some are Roofward stuivers. No scrips; bad to have those plainly in one's pocket.

He empties the glass of water first and leaves it on the counter. Sherbet in one hand the other not-so-sneakily around the Professor's waist, he makes way to an emptier corner of the hall.

"To joy," he raises his sorbet.