Perrine shook his hand up and down in a very silly manner, her pinkie still wrapped around his, before letting go and leaning back again. It was definitely a good thing she hadn't ordered any more alcohol, or else she'd really be messed up right about now. "Ever seen the sunrise from the beach?" she asked suddenly, closing her eyes as the lantern light started to prick at her eyes. "It's reaaaaal pretty. You can see alllll-" On the word 'all', she waved her hand as if wiping it across an imaginary window. "-the sandbars and shipwrecks. Best time for 'combing." Perrine nodded sagely, eyes still shut. "'S not a bad life, but it's not the one I want. If there was treasure in Whiby- Wibbly- H-wit-bee beach places, I'd be set for life, but no cigar yet."

Anthony grinned very foolishly. This was better than he had expected it to be. He turned his attention back to Perrine as she spoke again, and he rest his chin on the table again and looked up at her attentively. He nodded as he started to visualize the beach as she spoke of it, and he kept listening with a great interest, until something hit him. "Wait. Best time for what, now?" Did he hear that correctly.

Perrine paused, then realized she probably shouldn't have used the shorthand and giggled, the brim of her hat sliding a little further down her forehead. "Beachcombing," she clarified, although the way she said 'combing' now was certainly different than how she'd said it a moment prior. "Best time for beachcombing." She flicked a little nut shell from past patrons across the table at him absentmindedly and found she was having a hard time stopping her giggles, so she went on, "It's the way I make money, an' get by. Ever tried it? A lil' dangerous, oui, but worth it if you know where to look an' where and where not to step." She winked at him "I know every nook and cranny 'round the sandbars where most things get stuck. That's where I got this-" Here she pulled out a rusted brass pocket watch from the inside breast pocket of her coat. "Worth nothing for money," she mentioned, a fact that had initially frustrated her when she first found the watch three months ago, "but it's got a name on the inside. Somethin' Spanish. I thought it was a decent thing, so I kept it." Sure, there was a clocksmith in town, and a good one, so she'd heard, but it wasn't like she had the kind of money to get him to fix the pocket watch.

Anthony also giggled like a five year-old, because that was insanely funny to him. He murmured a mostly not serious 'stop' as she flicked the shell at him, but he kept laughing, though he tried to supress it when she started speaking again. Eventually it stopped on it's own. "I've never done that," he commented, as she kept talking and showing off something she had found. "it seems interesting, though. How d'you find things like that?" Whenever he went to the beach (which, admittedly, wasn't a lot), he only found sand and sometimes rocks if he's lucky.

Perrine's eyes gained a twinkle. Long ago, she'd have been content to live all her life in Paris, but when Renaud came along, he awakened something inside of her more than just love, a desire to explore, to see the unique and unusual of the world, and ever since, her yearning to find something big, something more, had exponentially grown and grown. It had come to a standstill when Renaud left her and although she still felt it here in Whitby, she didn't have the financial capabilities or the heart to leave the town behind nor to fund a treasure-hunting expedition in the surrounding area. "You've got to know just where to look," she repeated. "I've been here two years but been treasure-hunting for longer, and I've picked up on the tools and tricks of the trade well, if I do say so myself." She smiled at the man. "Like I said, I go beachcombing every morning at the sunrise. If you ever want to give it a try, I'd be glad to show you the ropes. My house is the shambly one right on the shore, an' it's got tall grass all around it with some missing swatches that I took to with a saber. When I had the saber. Then the police took it. Anyhow-" She shook her head, knocking her thoughts back on track, "-my offer stands for any time." She blinked twice, then added, "Though, I'd like to know your name before you come a-knocking on my door, if you ever do. Oh, and remember to wear boots and thick socks, the ocean this time of year is the coldest thing you've ever felt, and you won't want to catch a cold."

Anthony looked up at Perrine with a sort of shine in his eyes. Okay, he's never done anything like what it is she does, but now he has the strongest urge to go and try it. He listened and nodded attentively as she spoke. "That's impressive. You seem really skilled," he said, with the naivety and childlike wonder that only a drunk man could have. "I like that offer. Oh! Oh– and, my name is Anthony." It would be rude to just show up at someone's doorstep when they barely even know who you are. He remedied that. Anthony didn't  know whether he was actually gonna take up her offer, but he liked thinking about taking it up.

"Well then, Anthony-" She felt like they'd found a good common ground to build a friendship upon from this drunken conversation, and she grinned as she said his name. "-I would be honored to go bitchcombing-" She hiccupped a laugh at her mistake and couldn't stop giggling for a solid minute, but when she regained her breath, she went on, "-to go beachcombing with you sometime." She gave a little half-bow from her seated position and her hat fell off her head, nearly knocking over Anthony's drink. "Once," she mentioned, picking it back up and putting back on her head, too drunk to notice the top was flattened now and she was wearing it backward, "I found a gold monocle, with the glass in it and everything! Sold for a pretty penny, too, gave me enough for a week's worth of meals."

Anthony let out a very sudden and loud laugh at her little mistake. It took way too much time for him to get back to the point he was at before, but it happened, eventually. He pulled his drink closer to himself as he noticed that it was almost knocked over, but he quickly turned his attention back to Perrine.  Enough for a week's worth of meals? That seemed like a dream come true. Okay, he really needed to go out and try this shit. "Oh my god. And you got all that from bitchcombing?" he brought up her mistake again, and also made himself laugh uncontrollably again. Further proof that he is mentally twelve years old.

Perrine started laughing again as he joked about her mistake again, not minding the few looks they drew from a trio of confused-looking women who'd just entered the tavern. What on earth were they doing here- ah, yes there was an inn upstairs. For some reason, this was what brought down her humor to a quiet giggle which she was able to mostly stifle within another half-minute. "Yes, all from beachcombing!" She didn't bring up the joke a third time in case it sent them both over the edge of humor, but still emphasized the word nearly as such. "It really is the lazy folk's job," she said, grinning, "or the drunkard's, too, in my case. You pick your hours, you wear whatever the hell you want, an' you don't have to pay income taxes or whatever."

Anthony was way too amused by her mistake. He didn't even care for any looks they might have been getting, he was having fun and that was most important. "Seems like a dream job," he said after he finally managed to get himself under control, again. He wasn't done milking her mistake for all it's worth, though: "really nice job, this bitchcoming–" wait. Did he really make a (rather lethal) mistake while making fun of a mistake? "–combing! Combing!" Mistake or not, that was the epitome of humor for him and he started laughing like a madman again.