After a moment in which Susan gathers all of her strength - Bacchus rather left her weak in the knees! - she hauls herself to her feet. She shall deal with her clothes later. "How do you take yours?" she asks, flipping on the electric kettle. "And let's see... I've got chocolate digestives, ginger nuts, and..." she rummages through the tin of biscuits that she keeps behind the little wet-bar that her parlor has generated. "Oh, yes. Hazelnut shortbread with lemon and thyme." The latter are, of course, Edmund's favorites; she'd made them earlier that week, so they're a little less fresh than the others. But still rather tasty, if you ask her!