Do not offer any Input

You expect the Drab Realtor to speak, but the solicitor pre-empts him. He mentions an article the Cerulean Titan has (apparently) written, and how he disagrees with some conclusion your host has made. They trade jargon for a while, and then the Solicitor claims to have forgotten some point raised in the article and expresses his deep wish to refamiliarise himself with the writing. The Titan, of course, has a copy around here somewhere.

The Cerulean Libertine moves to a chaste distance and attempts to bring some semblance of propriety to her dress, but hides herself from her father’s gaze instead. The Titan has cast drink and pipe aside and does not even look at the four of you. Nor at his daughter.

”I will be but a moment,” says the Cerulean Titan. ”I trust you can entertain yourselves without me for that long?”