as

goblet down

Hermogenes feared the goblet would break from the impact.
"There is no progress report, infernal woman! As you well know—you were present yourself, yesterday, at the latest fiasco."
Irene grinned. She looked at the bishop.
"Did you hear that, Anthony? He called me a devil! Doesn't that seem a bit excessive? I ask for your expert opinion."
Cassian smiled. "Further clarification is needed. If he called you a devil, then, yes—'twould be a tad excessive. However, John was by no means specific. 'Infernal woman,' after all, could refer to any denizen of the Pit. Such as an imp. In which case, I'm afraid I would have to lend my religious authority to his words. For it is a certain truth, Irene, that you are indeed an imp."
"I didn't think there was such a thing as a female imp," retorted Irene.
The bishop's smile was positively beatific.
"Neither did I, my dear Irene, until I made your acquaintance."
Laughter erupted at the table. When it died down, Maurice spoke.
"What happened, John?"
The