For a woman in such an utter state of undress he finds her comment almost laughable, one eye lifting neatly upward as he regards her with a look akin to a vague apprehension as he finished working upon her fingernail. He releases it only when he is assured the nail has reached his own standard of sufficient before allowing the vaguest of simpers to linger upon his eternally youthful features.

"I agree, he will not notice your fingernails if you plan to present yourself in this fashion in the morning. When you are appropriately attired though, I assure you, he will notice and you will owe to me all this money."

Money, in the modern sense, was entirely illusive to him. He failed to perceive any value in the green paper bills Samantha seemed so delighted to receive. They were, in Dorian's opinion, useful for starting fires and little else and yet his previous mention of such a notion had horrified Samantha to such an extent he'd dared not bring it up again. For now however, his focus is turned upon the woman entirely, even his affairs of the previous night cast aside to allow his attention to fixate upon the woman. He frowns, slightly, at her calling him Dori, a nickname she seemed determined to use and one he seemed determined to ignore. Although truthfully, perhaps, there was something endearing in such a moniker though he hardly saw any need to inform her of it. He moves then to place the woman as he is entirely sure she should be placed, softly straightening her shoulders and tilting her head ever so slightly upwards until she exuded some form of grace. At least, as much grace as she could be afforded for an 'American girl' as she so muttered beneath her breath.
American women were unique, to his mind, in far more ways then one. They were promiscuous at the best of times, continually underdressed, outspoken, outgoing and yet bold, caring, determined and despite their inherently bad posture they were not wholly offensive to him. Different, to be sure, yet not in a way he found he disliked. Different was not always bad, after all. The fae forced to accept 'different' in near every facet of his life and yet in some ways it had been a decided improvement.

There were, however, moments too, when older ways were distinctly preferable. Women in his day had at least understood how to walk, to command attention, to betray a graceful and prominent presence. Samantha had a presence, to be sure and yet of what qualities it possessed he was still undecided. In this moment it was little more then...half-awake.

"I do not know what snob is, but I am assured you are not it."

He murmurs softly, stepping back once more to eye the woman before him again with a critical eye. His words are smooth, easy, as he offers them, attempting to instil within her some sense of pride, some inner drive to embrace what he is attempting to teach. He had learned such things as a child after all, these lessons instilled within him over and over again. Some of them, perhaps, had become obsolete in this new and modern world and yet some of them still rang true. There is no shame, he is sure, in holding belief in herself. He chuckles, despite himself, at her softly spoken words.

"I do not announce my own position. I had people for that- but I have been laughed at before. Not by my peers or peasants or members of my court for they would never dare to disrespect me in such a fashion. My Father however, laughed at me often, in fact he took very great pleasure in it."

The smile he offers now is almost rueful , his gaze averting from her own a moment before pressing such thoughts away, asking her to walk now as he steps back, gesturing to the lounge room space before them. He nods his assurance as the girl starts forward, her first few steps hardly poor, lips parting to offer gentle encouragement before she rather suddenly trips.

"Samantha!"

He is not nearly swift enough to catch her as she tumbles to the carpet, bursting into laughter as she rolls over, the fae man's shock at her sudden fall quickly dissipating in the wake of her clear amusement- his own eyes rolling as he sighs.

"Yes, you would gain the attention of all with such a display I am assured. Let me help you up."

One hand extends towards her, helping her easily to her feet before stepping back once more and leaning upon the counter top.

"You will need to try again though. We cannot move onto anything else until you manage at least one lap of the room in a respectable fashion. If you fall down then so be it. The more you fall down here, the less you will fall down in the public eye. You can do it, whether you believe it or not. Try again. This time focus more on your balance, do not look down at your feet, look ahead, walk with purpose. Think tall thoughts as my Mother used to say. Although I do not know how very much that helped me. I am not all that tall for a man."

He smiles gently once more, gesturing for the woman to try again.