Bahorel absolutely cackles. "I shall have to listen to him with more respect, then, you make him sound to be living in triumph. No, I don't know his objections; he seemed to assume I'd share them. If that is his occupation, you'd think he'd like a bunch with so many enthusiasts of De Sade; then again, perhaps he takes offense at amateurs in his business. " He wipes off whatever paint is still on his hand by twisting it into the cuffs of his shirtsleeves; it's a satisfying contrast scattered in the white cloth. "That's done for now. I'm going to go see what happens for lunch. You?"