[Oh, Ms Vaux. He could slip in anytime he wanted — he could do so now, if he didn’t think he’d pass out after a round two of rummaging around in memory.
But he just dabs at his nose.]
I didn’t mean this.
[Another willing memory dive. No, he’s not that hopeful.]
[ one brow arches, but she ultimately decides, nah, she's not going to Prestidigitate it clean, and she's not going to make it easy for him just because he takes a reasonable tone. he can wash it for her, and think about why he has to while he does it. she can only presume he is gearing up to leave her, now that she's riled up and angry with him, but before he goes, she has to make certain of one thing. ]
That was most invasive thing you could have done, Mister Creel. I hope you know that.
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But he just dabs at his nose.]
I didn’t mean this.
[Another willing memory dive. No, he’s not that hopeful.]
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But I do. How will you make up to me? Hm? Unpry? She knows your face now.
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/2
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[His nose seems to have stopped its bleeding, so he drops his hand and folds the handkerchief up, as though it were not spotted with blood.]
Like I said. I’ll make it up to you. And I’ll bring this back, too, without my blood on it.
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That was most invasive thing you could have done, Mister Creel. I hope you know that.
[ laughtrack.wav ]
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was not
but he will let her believe that.]
I won’t do it again.
[He stands, requiring a little more effort than usual, but manages without any incident.]
You probably want me out of your hair now. Good luck with the rest of your card.
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Another time, then.