"Deirdre, owner of this fine marina." It comes with a mildly sarcastic bow. "I almost feel like I should apologize; I intervened thinking you were in grave danger, but the way you handled that crab...I can tell why you've come to that assumption."

Oh, yes, the tea. There's other things to get out for it. Cream, honey, the actual, say, cups. Deirdre bustles that direction; she's very tired. "Is it terribly rude of me to ask if you're human? You certainly look the part, but one mustn't assume."