"Mmhmm, that will happen," says Aziraphale, unconcernedly drinking around her bizarre references. She's all right, this one. When she's not trying to destroy things or attacking him. "But you are much more robust. You may enjoy it. It might make you feel even more glorious."

Deliberately goading now. He sips more, watching her over the rim of the glass.

"Go on, then," he says, creating a glass for her as well. "I'm offering. It's good policy to accept. Or does it daunt you?"