"There's plenty in your future." And the regular sort in the present. The tension is unwinding in him - not for any particularly good reason, just because of the glass in his hand. He takes another sip. "Whiskey as well."

Immediately after he says it, he realizes just what it is he's alluded to. His mouth goes dry. "My, erm, my point is, there'll be plenty to drink to. You know what? Never mind."