( It's a good turn-out, better than any gathering Ol' Ed might have summoned. Even croaked, he couldn't get the dead to show up for'im, but Artemius has done, done it right. The best of a mighty fine crop, here, having the time of their lives under his roof, and what will they do? They'll remember. They'll go home, and they'll tell their own, Artemius Bale is a man to know.
And he is. Ain't only the liquor easing him to the thought, the hard drink he's still twirling in the glass of one hand, the second long emptied but carried around listlessly. Truth be told, he's meant to give it to the servants, but he remembers days when he wore the helpers' apron, still barely a butcher's apprentice, before his fate turned, and he can damn well ferry his own drink.
He's not too much a gent for that. Not too much of one to ignore the pretty woman who throws'erself in his path, like he doesn't know her sort. )
Quite all right, s'all right, all of it... you're a guest here, my fine and honoured guest and... ( Well, there's a grin, there's no helping it. ) Not one o'the girlies, are you?
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And he is. Ain't only the liquor easing him to the thought, the hard drink he's still twirling in the glass of one hand, the second long emptied but carried around listlessly. Truth be told, he's meant to give it to the servants, but he remembers days when he wore the helpers' apron, still barely a butcher's apprentice, before his fate turned, and he can damn well ferry his own drink.
He's not too much a gent for that. Not too much of one to ignore the pretty woman who throws'erself in his path, like he doesn't know her sort. )
Quite all right, s'all right, all of it... you're a guest here, my fine and honoured guest and... ( Well, there's a grin, there's no helping it. ) Not one o'the girlies, are you?