Aziraphale is somewhat distracted by his own minute to minute assessment of how the evening is going to properly notice just how fast they're drinking, but even when he does see it, he assumes it to be related to just how scarce proper alcohol has been for them as of late.

He's bringing his glass to his lips when they make the comment. He glances over the glass as he sips, a small knowing smile covered by it.

"Well... Perhaps we shall be so lucky." Because dancing is quite fun, and he hasn't done it for a while. And maybe he's growing a fondness for these slower steps.