"Precisely, Mother," he said, tilting his head in her direction to acquiesce her statements. He exhaled a few rings of smoke, exact and methodical, then cleared his throat. "We are wasting much too much of our time guarding Karkaroff's coin from the bloody Order at every race," he took another drag. "Aren't we, Blaise? You're the one with the Death Eater's numbers. How are we doing?"