She had evidently ordered it already, since an aged servant in the costume of a nineteenth-century flunky entered with a tray supporting two glasses and a squat bottle covered with dust. It was still corked and the servant, his face stolid, proceeded to open it with an old-fashioned corkscrew.
The glasses were the traditional snifter glasses, meant only for the appropriate brandy.
The woman took hers up and said, “Cheers. And, ah, what do you Americans say? What spins?”
Don tried to rise to the occasion. “My head,” he said, lifting his own glass to answer the toast.
She was immediately distressed. “You are ill?”
He grinned at her sourly. “Not exactly. I have been celebrating.”
She took a sip of her brandy and said approvingly, “And who has a better right?”
So, he was right, she did
