Parker was too stunned to do anything on the contrary to Addie's orders, so he stepped gingerly over the ill man and went to the kitchen, past Sarah and the serving girl. The tag on her shirt read<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Emily</span>, and he tried to say something positive to cheer the obviously distraught girl, but nothing came to mind, so he went into the kitchen, looking for this fabled towel the fat woman demanded.<br/><br/>Sarah lead the girl to a booth, despite her rigid objection. She had an arm draped around Emily, but she herself was starting to get the chills, afraid that Parker might have contracted something, anything from being too close to that sick man. Little did the woman know that it was in fact her that would soon be coughing blood all over.<br/><br/>She rubbed the girl's shoulder reassuringly, speaking in a gentle tone. "It's alright now, I'm sure he's going to be fine." She sounded quite demeaning; surely, this girl wasn't a child, and these Americans were so dumbed down to violence and death anyways.<br/><br/>Parker was practically jogging back to the main dining area with a wet towel, poorly rung. It dripped on his wool jacket and down his arms and sleeves, and he handed his burden tentatively to Addie. Parker looked over to the younger man who had just entered when everything started going wrong, a shy smile on his face. "I s'pose you've lost your appetite, then? I'm Parker Fairfax." He didn't really feel comfortable shaking hands at that moment; the thought of germs made him fold his hands beneath his armpits, never wanting to release them again. Instead, he offered the younger man a nod of the head.