[There, the bed between them and here the candle illuminating the shape of her hand and some glow of Fitcher's cream colored skirts where they peek between the fall of that bottle green coat.]

Guilded? My, Silas. I'd had no idea your resume was so extensive.

[She fetches up the candle, the glint of her dark eye and the cheeky slant of her smile briefly lit—]

You ought to consider marrying well should you ever return to that place. I've heard promising things.

[—before it's extinguished, and the dark closes back again. Time to go.]