“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.
"My kind of hero, at least," she replies. Her lodging isn't too far, and she ramps up her smile as they get into the lobby, sparing the man at the desk an acknowledging look and then looking up at Arthur like she just adores him. Nothing untoward going on here, no sir. She leads Arthur up the stairs, not planning on being stopped.
"Look at how good we are," she replies, amused, and she unwinds herself from his arm. She puts out her hands to take his coat. "And how often do you stay in a real room, huh?"
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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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"Ain't I shot three guys the first time I met you? You know me better'n all that."
He feels terribly light on his feet, going through the dirty streets of St. Denis.
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"Hold on to that thought while you sneak me into your rooms," he says, cheerily. "'Heroic'."
He snorts and shakes his head.
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He tips his hat at the receptionist and easily follows her upstairs. He knows how well she can spin a tale - he fell for it himself.
They're not stopped. Who would dare to? Once the door is locked behind them he takes off his hat and grins at her. "Mission accomplished."
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