Tristan was thoroughly confused, and no small degree irritated. He didn't know what to make of this sudden change, but he knew that the man had just tried to damage his hearing and so whatever else he had in store couldn't be good. He could just go home and sulk on his own. Then he thought of actually going home and sulking on his own.

He grabbed his bag from the table but left his hat, and let Mr. Meijer guide him along. "The drawing room will do," he said, trying to sound composed and professional. "Mr. Meijer, is there still something I can help you with? If so, tell me."