"No time like the present. At least before you fall asleep again." It's teasing, gentle. And so Brigitte rises to her feet, offers an arm to help the man hobble to his own, and to escort him through the chaotic jumble of chairs-and-tables towards the front door and the village roads.

It's a little echo of a new year's party, perhaps, and when Reeve walked her around the manor gardens of a simulation, except this time she's leading him -- but they still walk, and talk, and the night slides away.