"Avoirdupois," he said suddenly, quiet out of realization to himself but with his impeccable French rolling right off the tongue. He glanced from his tea back to Sterling, smiling apologetically and setting his spoon back on a napkin. "I was doing the crossword before you arrived," he explained, though he had a feeling his guest didn't much care why he was muttering to himself in a foreign language. "Eleven letters, French for 'goods of weight'. Avoirdupois." There was a slight pause as he listened to himself speak, then chuckled and shook his head a little. "I must sound awfully pretentious. My apologies. It comes with being British."