That earned a guffaw of the humorless sort. He grabbed the back of the chair he had been occupying and sighed. "Busy. Yeah." He wanted to tell her to forget her tea, to never come back to see him. He loved his family, but they were all mad, he thought. "So I have to live a life of crime to get you to visit me more often, eh?" His words were flat and dispassionate, but he was no longer shaking with his ire.