"I shall keep it in mind," she murmurs, channeling briefly. The teakettle instantly begins to whistle, and she adds the properly-heated water into the press.

"If nothing else, there are certainly enough varieties of Arabica alone to occupy one's palate for quite some time."

Moiraine glances at him.

"As well as certain other types which are available to us."

The faint hint of emphasis on the last word is subtle, but clear.