A brow lifted as he saw she was trying to pay for pastry with her stolen money. Served her right that there wasn't enough money to buy such frippery. Marcus almost snorted, but then he stopped himself. He was about to turn around and walk away, get back to his job so he could get his money sooner, rather than later. He paused first to place a cheroot into his mouth, started to pat around for his matches, and then blinked as the woman honed in on him.

Hah, the joke was on her, he thought. In fact, he started to chuckle. He let his eyes move from her head to her toes and back up again. "Ye're barkin' up the wrong tree, lass. I've less money than ye've just now fallen into." With that, he stepped back into the shadows of the nearest booth, leaning his back against the wall and propping one foot up. He found the matches, lit one, and started to inhale smoke.