The boy shrugged. It was hard to think about the question. Hard to think at all. "I dunno, ser. It's drink they're interested in mostly. Haven't seen them use owt else. Though... they might try and sell 'em on..." He would just have to not go home, but that was nothing new. "Thank you for takin' me to the doctor..."

"Lord in heaven above." He says turning his eyes skyward. "I am going to get you a room at the inn for the night, you can return home with your five pounds and your medicine tomorrow. Hopefully with a clear head." He informs Noah as he heads outside. It doesn't take him long to wave down a hansom willing to carry them to the inn he is staying at. Which had the kind of upper class, stately, and elegant style that made it clear that this single building was worth more than Noah's entire neighbourhood.

Noah initially agreed, although he resolved to find James and sneak him into the room, since the boy was probably waiting for him at their hide-out. But when he stepped out of the carriage and looked up at the building, he gasped. "I cannot stay at a place like this, ser. I'll be arrested." For it was obvious that a boy like Noah did not belong in a place like that, and anyone who should see him there would surely call for the constable. It would also be more difficult to sneak James into an establishment like this. Surely they would be held and questioned even for walking through a neighborhood like this. "You are most kind, ser. And I mean no offence. But me brother's probably our hide-out waitin' for me and I don't want him to sleep there alone as there's bad folk about. I'll be alright there."

That gives Quentin pause and he orders the hansom to wait. "I wish you had mentioned that earlier." He says with a groan of frustration. "We will get James, who I assume to be your brother, and bring him here as well. As for whether or not they will let you inside or arrest you, they will do neither." He says flatly. "Though if James is as ill off as you, I plan to have a bath run for the both of you and get you both a new set of clothing. Something clean, sturdy, but second hand. I am aware enough of this world to know if I send you out in nice clothing you are likely to catch a beating. But you can have something clean and without holes in it. Boots as well." He says waving a hand absently remember that the other boy required them.

[CW: reference to child neglect]

"I'm sorry, ser," muttered Noah embarrassed. He would usually have protested accepting all his charity and been a little suspicious of it as well. He still could not fully comprehend the man's motivations. But his head was hurting badly, and all he wanted was a bed to lie down in. "You're very generous, ser," was the only awkward reply Noah gave.

If Quentin let him, Noah led them to the poorer part of town. "Best stay here, ser," he muttered as he walked into an alley. A little further in, he stopped in front of a window that had been boarded up from the inside. When Noah knocked and whispered 'James', the board was taken away, and Noah helped a little boy climb out. He was a scrawny child who looked no older than seven. He looked even smaller and skinnier because his clothes were too big for him. "We have a place to sleep tonight, but you gotta stay close to me." Noah explained, and after the small boy nodded, they approached the generous stranger. But Quentin probably smelled the boy before he saw him.

Seeing James Quentin closes his eyes and takes a long slow calming breath. He had, on general principle, wanted to bunch Harry Longbottom in the face that last time he'd met the man. Seeing the state of his children though? Quentin was not an easy man to anger but he was damn near ready to see the man and his wife keelhauled. The two are loaded into the hansome, despite the driver's slightly protesting glance and curled nose at Jame's stench. But Quentin simply handed the man an extra shilling for the trouble.

Once they are back at the inn he approaches the concierge, explains what it is he wants done with the two boys and then he turns them over to the man's care. The concierge eyes Noah and James as he might eye a pair of rats he says in a voice dripping with disdain. "If the young masters would follow me." Despite the concierge's clear distaste for them the two boys were, probably for the first time in their lives, taken care of.

Not just taken care of though, they were pampered. They were shown to the bathing chamber first where they were both instructed to strip and get into a pair of tubs filled with warm soapy water. Not just soapy but there were bubbles as well. They were instructed to scrub themselves clean and about half-way through that a barber arrives to clean and cut their hair. When they are out of the bath their clothes are gone but a pair of fluffy bathrobes have been left and they are lead into a room. It is large and lavishly appointed. There is a king-sized bed, which testing would reveal it to be made of something softer than either of the boys had felt before. There was also food. A lot of food, rich, hearty, and delicious and there was all they could eat plus dessert.

Indeed the boys had never experienced such luxury. Noah somewhat gritted through it all, for his head hurt and all he wanted was to sleep. But James was overexcited. He refused to come out of the bath at first, until he smelled the food that was brought to their room, and then his brother wearily had to remind him to get dressed first, for the love of God. James ate so much that he got sick. But that didn't deter him from waking up early the next morning to eat more. Noah was still fast asleep, but the little boy was sitting slouched in a chair, his feet out on top of the table (for all the pampering had made him cocky), pretending to hold a cigar in his mouth, although it was really a pencil.

"Feet off the table unless you are planning to clean it."

A deep voice says to James as Quentin enters the room. He had not been seen during the evenings festivities. Though he had ensured they were taken care of and that someone checked on Noah in the middle of the night. The teen having been groggy but not, apparently, overly confused.

As Quentin enters the room a bellhop follows caring a few packages. These were the boys new clothes and boots. Second hand, but clean and in good repair. They might draw some comment but they would not draw over much attention in the neighborhood where the two boys lived.

"James go and wake up your brother."

Quentin instructs as he settles down in a chair. He felt oddly old at the moment, perhaps dealing with children was making him more stern. He liked kids but his interaction with them was usually quite limited.

James quickly removed his feet from the table and looked at the large man with wide eyes. Then his eyes moved to the packages longingly. But he did as the man told him, walked over to where Noah was sleeping, and hit him in the face with a pillow.

Noah sat up and groaned. "Fuck off, James!"

"T' rich bloke is here," his little brother announced. That caught Noah's attention, and he quickly got ready and went over to where Quentin was, with the scrawny child on his heels.

"Good morning, ser," he said sheepishly when he saw his benefactor.

"Good morning."

Quentin motions towards the packages.

"You two should get dressed, we will talk a bit more once you are ready."

Since the boys were still wearing the pyjamas the hotel had furnished them with. The clothes they'd come in with had been laundered and the holes stitched. And now they also had far less threadbare clothing to use in the packages.