He tied the ribbon with all the delicacy of a man accustomed to caring for the small mechanisms of finicky guns. Hair triggers and flintlocks. And all of it had to be presentable. Perfect. Able to pass inspection. In this way, he and Effie had some unrecognised common ground.

"Everyone wants a future," he answered broadly -- still blind to her interpretation. "Some of us have to fight for it. Some of us earn it. Some of us steal. There was a time I thought I'd die a pauper -- after that, I don't see any use for delaying the things I want."