Irene wondered if her bad mood, her attitude was spilling out to the customers.  Certainly, none were offering her some time off  her feet.  She looked at her boss, still sitting with the Marshal.<br/><br/>More than anything, Irene wanted to ask around about those three men.  She was working, though, and if Guinevara caught wind of her not focusing on the business at hand, she might be looking for a new place to work.  The idea that the man was still around and above ground while her husband rotted for five years make Irene almost literally see red.  She wiped the counter, counted bottles, checked the tables and looked at the other local girls who were doing a bang-up job.<br/><br/>They don't need me, she mused, walking towards the end of the bar.  The cover of dark would be a help...  She might be able to find out something from the locals.  Her gaze moved back to Guinevara and the Marshal.  She straightened her spine and crossed the room, no one bothering her, or even looking at her as if they might be a bit afraid of her--Did she look THAT pissed off?<br/><br/>"Ma'am," Irene said, easing up to the Madame, flicking a glance to her and then the Marhsal and back; a filly about to bolt.