" Susan was holding a glass of pinot grigio, from which she had, in theory, been drinking for an hour and ten minutes. It was down nearly half an inch. She took another sip, and swallowed, looking at the room. Her lips were slightly parted, the residue of wine making them gleam. I knew that jumping over there and sitting on her lap was unseemly. I fought the impulse back. “We only assume something to be an accident when all other explanations fail,” she said. “Wow,” I said. “Is that the royal we? Or are you talking about you and me?” “You and me,” she said. “I only use the royal we for state occasions. "
― Robert B. Parker , Bad Business (Spenser, #31)