‘Don’t drink or you’ll have your paytron on you. He’s good use there.’
‘I ask it, can I see my lady?’
‘Drunk nor sober you won’t. Serve a paytron, be a leper, you’ll find, with all honest folk.’
Ines shook out an execrating leg at the foul word. ‘Leper, you say? You say that? You say leper to me?’
‘Strut your tallest, Kit Ines. It’s the money rattles in your pocket says it.’
‘It’s my reputation for decent treatment of a woman lets you say it, Madge Winch.’
‘Stick to that as long as your paytron consents. It’s the one thing you’ve got left.’
‘Benefit, you hussy, and mind you don’t pull too stiff.’
‘Be the woman and have the last word!’
His tongue was checked. He swallowed the exceeding sourness of a retort undelivered, together with the feeling that she beat him in the wrangle by dint of her being an unreasonable wench.