Athos has two choices: he can either refuse on principle and allow the man to lounge on his sofa, in his apartment, drinking wine and taunting him, or he can swallow his pride, acquiesce, and at least drink a glass of wine for his pains. God knows, Athos has his pride, but he is practical, too - and thirsty. He turns on his heels and stalks to the kitchen to fetch the glasses.

When he returns, he snatches the wine from Porthos and pours himself a generous portion. “I’m surprised you don’t drink it straight from the bottle. Practicing your manners?"