[She doesn't even have the energy to bother getting mad at him, instead swirling her whiskey around] Givin' meself this one day, Francis, this one day out of over three hundred to be lettin' meself be miserable. Hardly spendin' the whole year grievin'. [Anymore, anyway] Allowed it, I am.

[Oh... oh goodness she'd nearly forgotten... And that is what makes her soften her tone even further.] Aye, aye I'm knowin' you do. Aye, still 'round to be tellin' of him, rememberin' him, 'tis true. But... still missin' him. [She does quirk an eyebrow at him] Never recall sayin' I was wishin' I was with him, however.

[Well, not out loud]