He tilted his chin and got a better look at the damsel. In the lamplight, he couldn't quite ascertain just how pallid she was.
"A drink?" He repeated -- allowing doubt to fill his voice. Perhaps that was the problem, in the end. He'd spent a chunk of his early life with Maggie Joyce, back in St. Giles, as she worked hard to establish her gin palace. Before fleeing the rookery, he'd managed to see his fair share of sots and drunkards. Was this really Miss Moncrief's problem?
"Ah. I see. Chucked you out, did she?" The barmaid. It made sense, he supposed, that the occasionally hard-faced blonde would exercise her right to run inebriates off her turf. In a fit of care and concern, he brushed a loose wave of dark hair off her pale face.
"In the end? Perhaps it's best you slept it off, miss. I've seen bigger beasts than you ruined by thirst." And she was such a wisp of a thing.
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"A drink?" He repeated -- allowing doubt to fill his voice. Perhaps that was the problem, in the end. He'd spent a chunk of his early life with Maggie Joyce, back in St. Giles, as she worked hard to establish her gin palace. Before fleeing the rookery, he'd managed to see his fair share of sots and drunkards. Was this really Miss Moncrief's problem?
"Ah. I see. Chucked you out, did she?" The barmaid. It made sense, he supposed, that the occasionally hard-faced blonde would exercise her right to run inebriates off her turf. In a fit of care and concern, he brushed a loose wave of dark hair off her pale face.
"In the end? Perhaps it's best you slept it off, miss. I've seen bigger beasts than you ruined by thirst." And she was such a wisp of a thing.