"Not drunk," Billy protested softly. He was a little fuzzy at the edges, but his suit was still in quiet order and he still had his head on his shoulders. People were getting ready to dance. Billy envied them, a bit, the casual interaction between them, the men putting on good face and the women looking considerate.

He looked down at his scotch for a moment, then back up at Goodnight. "Are you going to dance? Your mother seemed to be introducing you to a lot of young women. Maybe I'll dance with your sister."