As Millicent gushed over Horatio, he would nod in agreement. In the short time he'd know Horatio, he had already done more to help Winston then he could ever have asked for and there was no doubting the kindness of them both.
Winston was not convinced on the whole 'high-velocity tea not mattering' front, but he was not going to argue with his hosts. He would certainly do what he could to salvage what decorum he could.
He declined the cigar...
"Nor tanks, dat's very kind." But was quite happy to try some brandy. He was relieved that the sniffer did not turn out to be snuff and welcomed the drink to warm his cockles, swirling it in the glass and inhaling gently from the brim to clear his nostrils and warm his throat.
He listened avidly, his empathy broadcast upon his face openly as they told him all about themselves. When Millicent mentioned that they were not invited, Winston tilted his head apologetically toward her as Horatio carried on.
Winston looked at the chest, then the cigar and the brandy and then back at the chest...
The Devil on My Shoulder
Curiosity: Does that thing eat?
Winston: Don't call it a 'ting'.
Curiosity: Perhaps it eats people?!
Winston: Me no tink so. Dat does nat sound like someting Saiore wud make.
Curiosity: It has a mouth, it must have a belly too right?
Winston: Dat towel came out dry dough.
Curiosity: Look inside... But don't like... Stick your head in...
Winston: Nat reet now. It's look a little grumpy.
He asked, a little unsure of whether even offering was a wise idea. If the chest suggested it did, he would tentatively poor a little into its... mouth?
As the chest danced around with Millicent atop of it, Winston just watched with some considerable surprise, a lite wonder and quite a bit of confusion.
"Yuh certainly are a lively one. Now, do be puttin' par Millicent down, now." He spoke kindly but firmly, after all, it was quite amusing, but not entirely appropriate.
Winston would pat the chest, hoping to treasure it.
When Millicent spoke of a recipe book Winston's eyes became like pealed grapes, wide and bulging. He gasped.
"AAAahhhhhhhh! Really? Dat wud be awazin'. Me love a gud recipe book. Dough, yuh absolutely must let me write down me Honey Cake recipe in exchange. Me don't proclaim noting much about et, but it's dat least me cud do and it would be a pleasure to share it wid yuh, if yuh would like." Winston hopped up off his seat with excitement.
"Oh yeh mun, let's do. Cummon chest ..." He beckoned affectionately.
"... Mey-haps dem 'ave someting in da kitchen yuh might like. Come see wat us cun find."
As they lead the way, Winston would already begin sharing some of the trick to his recipe.
"It wuz da reason me came ear today in fact. Me been bakin' all day. Me love et. He beamed. It would not seem for a moment that the fact he'd already been baking all day was anything but the best way he could have spent the day.
"Da honey is al' impartant, yussee. Gud honey makes gud Honey cakes, af cars. Me get's mine frame de farm me work an. Me will send yah some, wen me get 'ome. Sarry me used all me had wid meh."
Winston would go out of his way to be polite despite his delight, but would not try to hide his excitement over sharing some recipes with them both.
As they reached the kitchen, he was about to ask for something to write with when he paused and looked at Chest.
"Do yuh 'ave something tuh write wid and some paper? Please? Whether the chest did or not, he'd seek some out and write down his recipe as they chatted,
taking care to keep a clear list of ingredients, clear step-by-step instructions and then 'tips' for making the finishing touches.
