She half-expected the flute to feel insubstantial, but it was solid enough, and the base of the bowl, where her fingertips touched, was rapidly getting cold. She couldn't help noticing the direction of his gaze either, despite the definite lack of solidity there. 'Thank you,' she smiled. 'I fully intend to. And I count on you to help with that,' she added, raising the glass to show what she meant. Bartenders had always been a favourite crowd, even when she had to pay for her drinks. And how often would she get to be served by a spectral one?