Tess finds it all too easy to fall into her usual ways: friendly banter, keeping other players talking, split three ways between conversation, the game and their drinks. Arthur raking in the wins makes it all that much sweeter.
She nudges him with an elbow playfully.
"You want to stretch your legs a bit, go for a smoke? I'm going."
"I think I might just need a smoke, Miss Oglesby," he says, cheerfully. He gets up and offers her his arm, leaving the table considerably lighter-funded.
Once the fresh sea air hits him he just looks at her - and laughs, a full, happy belly-laugh.
Tess links her arm with his, her other hand resting on his forearm too, like a proper lady. It tickles her to hear him laugh about as much as it does to think about all the cash that's been swept up.
"See, this city's loads of fun," she says, giving him a little squeeze. "You just have to know your way in."
"You were right," he concedes, more than happily, before switching to put
an arm around her shoulders instead. There's a mild orange glow in the
distance, marking a distant dawn.
She chuckles, leaning into his side. She snakes an arm around his waist for a moment to fish his cigarettes out of his own pocket. She lights one up for him with a wry smile.
"Why, thank you, sir, you're an impressive man yourself," she replies. "I'm real glad I didn't have to leave you with that whole damsel in distress schtick, that would've been far less interesting."
“Sounds like fun,” she replies. High stakes. Adrenaline. She muses on her gang for a beat — she’s glad to have them, but like everything else in this life, they’re temporary. She shrugs, smiles. “I’m around anyway. When business is going good, I’ve got lots of free time.”
"Just don't steal his wife, too," he cautions. He can't get them out of that.
He guides her back inside, hand between her shoulder blades, and gets her a drink. He sticks to seltzer himself, from that point on, but he's more than happy to keep on betting, and keep on winning along with her. And when she's had enough, he'll come with her too.
Getting comfortably tipsy and chatting up poker players while Arthur rakes it in is a great way to while away a few hours, and by time the party's too wound down for Tess's tastes, the sky is starting to lighten and there's birdsong in the distance.
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She nudges him with an elbow playfully.
"You want to stretch your legs a bit, go for a smoke? I'm going."
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"I think I might just need a smoke, Miss Oglesby," he says, cheerfully. He gets up and offers her his arm, leaving the table considerably lighter-funded.
Once the fresh sea air hits him he just looks at her - and laughs, a full, happy belly-laugh.
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"See, this city's loads of fun," she says, giving him a little squeeze. "You just have to know your way in."
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"You were right," he concedes, more than happily, before switching to put an arm around her shoulders instead. There's a mild orange glow in the distance, marking a distant dawn.
"You're one hell of a woman, Tess."
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"Why, thank you, sir, you're an impressive man yourself," she replies. "I'm real glad I didn't have to leave you with that whole damsel in distress schtick, that would've been far less interesting."
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"Ain't that the truth?" He takes the cigarette, takes a deep drag, and then offers it over.
"Best to meet each other again in a graveyard, run from the law, and then swindle a couple rich folk."
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"Makes you wonder how we're going to top this, next time we cross paths."
She passes the cigarette back, arm settling around his waist again.
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"Bank heist?"
He takes a drag and relaxes against the railing.
"Shame you already got a gang to run with." He'll kind of miss her once they part again.
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"Well. I regularly check if I have any messages waiting for me at the post offices. You ever want to find me - you just send me a letter, huh?"
His hand squeezes her shoulder.
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"You got more tricks up your sleeve, lady?"
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"I think I oughta cool it with the drinks, or I'm gonna drown in this river. could go for the money, though."
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"You're gonna end up stealin' some rich man's tiger or something," he predicts. He sounds like he's looking forward to it.
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"He'll be lucky if I get away with just his tiger."
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"Just don't steal his wife, too," he cautions. He can't get them out of that.
He guides her back inside, hand between her shoulder blades, and gets her a drink. He sticks to seltzer himself, from that point on, but he's more than happy to keep on betting, and keep on winning along with her. And when she's had enough, he'll come with her too.
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"You got a place to sleep?"
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"Got a tent," he says, still with a mild slur, but nothing big.
"Usually set that up right outside'a town in the marshland."
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"Fancy lady, ain't you?"
He grins at her and holds out his arm one more time. "Will management let you take a strange gentleman up to your room?"
They're sure to be protective of her virtue!
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“They won’t accuse a finely dressed man of being a scoundrel,” she replies.
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"And I am very finely dressed."
He grins at her, then winks and says: "As long as you still know I'm a scoundrel underneath this."
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"I'd drop dead of disappointment if you weren't!"
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