Harry looked at the speaking woman with a peevish wrinkle of the nose. But he held his tongue, because he knew he had been defeated. He turned to Quentin and resolved to ignore this stuck up lady. She's not even that pretty, he thought sullenly.

"Not likely," he muttered under his breath, when the man suggested pretending he was at church with his wife watching. They never went to church. Perhaps they had baptised the first. He couldn't remember. But he didn't think they had bothered with the rest. And as for his wife watching, when had that stopped him from anything before? The ugly, drunk cow.

He had half a mind to walk out of there. But he hadn't finished his beer, and at the moment he wasn't sure he could find the door anyway. So he held up his hands defensively. "I told ye, I didn't mean owt by it." He cursed. "But fine, I'll ignore the lady, just as she likes." He picked up his beer. "What do you pay, anyway?"