Eppie blinked, for just a moment caught a little at odds as her mind spun. A coin. A bright, shining coin pressed into her palm. She felt the hard edges of it though the fine cloth of her glove, and something in her crowed in glee. It was hardly the best 'gift' she'd ever been given, but it was half as much as she made in a night. The true meaning of his pressing that coin in her palm - and his words about the numbers - were not lost on the girl - very far from it. The implications spun in her mind, but she forced her lips to move, replying to his more recent statement. The rest...could wait until evening.
"I..." she hesitated, as if his kind gesture had flustered her a bit - which, in truth, it had. "I never learned me 'ow t'manage figures." she whispered, almost in a sort of daze. "I should think the man who could give a girl a' bit o' learnin'....well. She'd be..." a soft intake of breath. "Properly grateful."
She wouldn't reply to his gesture, or the comment about her being fit for a Sultan's harem. It flattered her, something inside her preened. Yet there were things to considered: how to respond to the fact that he'd just bought her while still maintaining plausible deniability. How to discern whether he was in earnest. Most of all, deciding whether the chance at a steady client was worth the complication of being stuck on the same ship as said client. And then he let his head swivel lazily about, giving her that look, and she drew in her breath again. Oh, that look. That knowing, wanting look. She pulled her hand away, slipping the coin carefully into her glove. Yes.