"Are you not?" Dorian teases. "Truly?" He doesn't mean it to be mean-spirited -- seldom he does -- but the alcohol eats away at a few more layers of his breeding and turns his humor bawdy. He reaches across to pet the curve of Marius' ear with one long finger, calloused from constant grip of his staff.

"Such a pity. Although if you're interested one day, I could still teach you at least fifty ways to shame all of your ancestors with all of your clothes still on. Perhaps I can get your friend Grantaire in on the act. There's a man who seems like he knows a good time when it presents itself. You really ought to let yourself go more often. You might learn that you like it."