[She pauses, smile still lingering. That's surprising, and there's no ignoring it. Her gaze drops down to her glass for a moment and then back to him. Fine, he can have a pass.]

I thought he was decent too, for a cop, but in London he found me wandering in Whitechapel and he's been on my ass ever since. When he realized I was in his room, I hadn't broken anything or left his place a mess. He had no way of knowing whether I'd taken anything. I just threw some water on him, and then he made it a fight. But he sure knew it was me when he broke my arm –– he told me he'd break it if I fought back. Real decent of him, right?