Seeing the Marshal offer her a stack of bills was the unusual gesture and didn't quite make sense. Or was she the one who wasn't clear. The Marshal's debt with her couldn't be solved with a stack of bills, but she took the stack nonetheless, stashing it behind the very cloth of her garment that hid her nipples. Guinevera had in a sense an infatuation with the Marshal, but it was mostly platonic. She didn't know much about the Marshal besides his rough past with those enforcing the law and those breaking it, but not much else. She knew he was a cold killer and the most difficult man to get into bed. Many times before, she had tried to get the man who sat apart from her to climb into bed with her for a second time, but she knew it would take more liquor, probably the last supply of the grandest whisky in the county, if not the country, to get him drunk enough to follow her into a nice cozy bed. Tonight wasn't going to be any different, and with the way things were going on the saloon floor and amongst the gambling tables, the Marshal would be occupied with his paranoia. If she wasn't careful, he would have shot her. Now that wouldn't be nice.<br/><br/>Irene approached as Guinevera stashed a folded stack of bills in front of her breast, the warm pieces of paper only but a tease to Miss Starr. She smiled at the girl, who looked like she had been chasing a mirage in the merciless desert, and let the Marshal speak and offer a glass of the liquor and a seat with the pair. She, like all the other girls, were polite, especially towards the Marshal, and drank the offer shot of whisky. But even the heat of the drink wasn't enough to ease the tension in her eyes. Guinevera's mouth dropped from a smile to an expression of concern. It was the first time in the long years that she had been here in the Saguaro Saloon for her to ask to head out early. The sun had hid itself from the world again, its orange glow still escaping above the hills. Like many of the girls employed in the saloon, Guinevera had not had the chance to hear the many untold stories of their past, whether good or bad, due to the constant activity in the saloon. Yes, today was the most busiest day, with the locals attending the mass at the church and passerbys attending the mass at the saloon. The next days were less busy compared to today. Maybe it was time to hear the girls out.<br/><br/>Guinevera stepped out of the booth and got face to face with Irene. With concern in her eyes, but a smile on her face, the madame reached her hands out to grasp the arms of Irene and tenderly squeezed them. Letting go one of her hands, she fixed up the hair of the overworked bartender. In a low tone almost like a whisper, she asked, "Miss O'Rourke. You've had your attention at the door since sunset and I know for a fact that it doesn't concern the customers. What is it that's bothering, my dear?" Like a mother would, Guinevera stroked the girl's dark hair as she waited for the girl's reply.