<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://gunsofold.com/marshal_badge_silver_balltip.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Date:</strong>January 9th, 1874<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Evening<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Back Room<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Sloane<br/><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d1/Mrlee.png)</div><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/0b/Msgreene.png)</div>Lee actually chuckled aloud at the mention of Turkish opium.  He’d let the stream of rhetorical questions pass, without a batted eyelash, quite certain both businessmen knew exactly what he was referring to, and Sloane liked the sound of his own voice.  “Fortunately for me, my customers do not possess your<em>rarified</em>tastes,” he mused.  He seemed even more amused at Sloane’s final remark – perhaps intended to be cutting.  He seemed fully aware it had been intended as an insult, but there was brief, dismissive gaze that suggested whatever esteem Sloane held himself in, the Chinaman looked down his own nose at the former gunslinger.<br/><br/>A flash of annoyance crossed Greene’s features.  There was more, but Sloane’s cavalier disrespect was trying her patience, as was the hostile back and forth between Sloane and Lee.  “I do.” She said, her tone growing curt for the first time.  “And yet, before I volunteered everything I know, it seemed prudent to know what exactly you would be bringing to the table.  I have a great respect for your business sense, but I would need to see a little more stake in these affairs than just the pleasure of your company.”  She gave a saccharine smile after that.<br/><br/>Her eyes narrowed, flashing in a bright spot of anger at the familiarity of her first name.  Her patience, worn thin, was hanging from a thread at the disrespect.  “I haven’t approached him yet,” she said.  “A more useful question is what would<em>we</em>want.  But you miss the point – supporting him is summarily worth every dollar invested, because it keeps our businesses free of unwanted influence.  Sometimes a little charity goes far further than quid pro quo.”<br/><br/>She shook her head, and moved to rise.  “It was my hope we could find some sort of mutually amenable arrangement, one that could extend to the other hotels, saloons, casinos, brothels – an alliance that could keep Sweetrock out of our business and ensure our survival in the years to come.  But as it stands I doubt we’re going to make it to our entrees before someone’s throat is opened.  I do apologize for dragging you all out into the cold.”  She was already reaching into her purse, preparing to pay for their meals and their drinks and depart.<br/>