( There's a moment, long and strained, when Mr. Eames seems faintly undecided — as if morals have paid him a quaint little visit and found his abode untidy.
Can't be having that, him. Not him. Then, carefully: )
Be gettin' you a fine frock for your trouble. ( Ain't as if they're in cahoots, wasn't Mr. Eames who pointed her down ole Cod's path, but he looks at her, squinting, then at the waters, then the bubbling of mermaids below, how they be hungering, and, well.
Well. )
...got me s'more who owe me coin. ( Could be makin' an enterprise of it. ) If I's to... call'em over...?
no subject
Can't be having that, him. Not him. Then, carefully: )
Be gettin' you a fine frock for your trouble. ( Ain't as if they're in cahoots, wasn't Mr. Eames who pointed her down ole Cod's path, but he looks at her, squinting, then at the waters, then the bubbling of mermaids below, how they be hungering, and, well.
Well. )
...got me s'more who owe me coin. ( Could be makin' an enterprise of it. ) If I's to... call'em over...?