The voice of another silenced the Sin momentarily, just as he was about to demonstrate just how un-arthritic his fingers were. Instead, his fingers slid across the Duchess' skin to rest at the small of her back, turning his masked face towards the source of the voice.
He didn't recognize the speaker but instead silently appraised the slim figure encased in a dress with precious stones that complimented the black ensemble. Gloved fingers twitched, an automatic reflex to anything of material worth, a residue habit from his thieving days.
"Why, thank you, mademoiselle." Greed looked from the woman's dress to Raum, failing to look modest from the praise. "And here, you had been worrying about how you would look."