Complexities!
“Too much,” rumbled Gefikst, once we were back in our own rooms. “Did you see the bitter look he gave you, there? He may be a bandit and a sneak thief, but he has his pride.”
“The pride is what I’m worried about,” I told it as I poured myself some mineral water. You need steady hands and bright eyes for recalibrating a dowsing rod. “I don’t want Francesco wondering why we’re still so ready to raid that safe. I do want him in a nice froth: too upset to think clearly, but not so infuriated as to toss a knife my way the next time my back is turned. It’s an intricate dance.”
“That’s fair,” Gefikst admitted. “I must admit, you do, ah, froth him well.”
“I blessed well hope so.” I sank into the couch. “Acting like this is harder than it looks. Being the complete Britonic upper-class blitherer takes work, you know.” Worth it, though. I first got the trick from a Pinkerton agent by the name of Sawyer: he could play the country bumpkin so well that it could take you a day to notice that the blighter had stolen your wallet and your teeth. Taking advantage of people’s expectations is a clever gambit, and I’ve never been shy about learning from our Washingtonian cousins.