Warily, the old man walks back through the open doorway beyond the counter. As he does, he looks over his shoulder before he disappears inside. A rustling could be heard, the sounds of shuffling papers and clanging of glass on glass. He soon shuffles back into the room with a narrow wooden box.<br/>As he opens up the box, an eruption of aroma hits the air. The wide container is carefully lined with soft felt and padding, grooved to nestle six small flasks. Each bottle of perfume seems to have a personality of it's own. They ranged from a common-looking flowery flask to a small, silver-stopped vial of deep red fluid.<br/><strong>"I have the wares, but do you have enough funds?"</strong>,  he spoke as he held the case for her to inspect.  Perhaps he didn't think she could afford them, or maybe he was simply attempting shrewdness.