Sometimes the Broomsticks felt like getting fresh air, which was not particularly healthy but did admittedly give him a few minutes away from his family. One drink would be good, would be fine — and then he could go back home.

It was the proximity, probably, between his workshop and the house — sometimes he could go whole days without leaving the property.

It was lucky to see someone he knew; social interaction with a non-Greengrass would probably be good for him.

"Bixby," Noble said, after perching in the barstool next to the other man. "I hope you're well?" he asked. Based on the liquor in his glass, and the expression Bixby had been wearing, he was not doing particularly well — but Noble wasn't going to go right out and ask about it. Not yet, at least.