"Ah, I understand, I understand. I was mentioning conventions to Miss Anastasia earlier; there's a ton of that. Tremendous fun, if one treads carefully. I think I'll manage around here. Though I'm definitely treading carefully, he thought as he glanced around. The street kid was back, reminding him of things too good to be true--timing, generosity, gilded bars...but he just grinned and bobbed his head. "Manners? Look, mate, that's a gift and I know it. I'll be working on the bloody thing through five smoking sessions. Thanks very much."
He dug out his single hardback of Uncommon Sympathy and slid it over. "I travel light, I'm afraid, but this one's autographed." He sat back. "The other five can be overnighted. It's going to be odd, living in a small community where I can immediately be associated with my work. But I suppose I'm to blame. I was never cowardly enough to take on a pen name."