She got the feeling that Phyri probably contemplated this more seriously than her own self – but ultimately, Amelia was open to anything at this point. She saw Phyri glance towards the fireplace, and her mouth popped open slightly as she thought she knew what the witch was thinking. While she certainly accepted that she needed help, Amelia hoped Phyri thought was not so far gone as to carry the relics of her last relationship with her wherever she went. Hopefully not, seeing as she didn't suggest Amelia throw all such possessions into the flames immediately.

As she relaxed her figure, she reached over to take another sip from her glass and let the drink's liquids soothe her. At least until her friend voiced a second course of action. Amelia contemplated between taking another unladylike swig to cover her shock (and partial disgust) of the suggested plan and laughing. She settled ultimately with doing one after the other which saw her dissolve into fits of coughing. She reached out a hand to steady herself - damn corsets.

"I think," she said hoarsely, "something less drastic, Phyri," she weighed in, laughing at her reaction. "I believe I'm more willing to part with small relics of sentimentality than part of my dignity." Not that she retained any in deciding to intertwine her path with Barnabas Skeeter's.