Angelo laughed a bit. Patricia's accent never ceased to entertain him. He stepped from his wagon, the smoke now having a chance to billow forth, which it did quite merrily. He gave the Japanese woman a hand wave, and told her, "<span style="color: red">Oh, no worries, eh? I needed to get some fresh air anyway.</span>"<br/><br/>He looked her up and down, taking a few mental notes. The rope, silken. Whatever it was used for he didn't know, but he knew who made it. Agatha was such a dear about those things. Next, he had a look at her clothing and body language. She certainly seemed... peppy, perhaps? Or maybe anxious? What it may have actually been was something that he didn't ponder on too much, but he knew that it was definitely getting her high-strung.<br/><br/>He placed a hand on his hip. "<span style="color: red">So, what would you like to talk about?</span>"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>