Bartholemhew just watched the scene unfold in amusement, 'such petty fighting' he thought to himself, with most of the other souls nodding and agreeing, however he still had his hand on the hilt of his cane, waiting for something to happen so he could unsheathe it's hidden blade and strike as fast as possible. He found the bunch of mask wearers around him very interesting and the addition of the smoke breather turning their little gaggle into a side show attraction. 
"Excuse me Sir," called out Bartholemhew from his corner of the room, "but before I go anywhere with you merry bunch, I think I'd like to atleast be aquatinted, with the more palatable ones at least." he said, looking at the blonde woman who was holding the knife with disdain.