Arcturus knew that he had to be careful. Disguise or not, saying what he truly thought would definitely be a bad idea. He shrugged again, then slowly reached out and tapped his cigarette over the ashtray on the table. It gave him a moment to formulate his thoughts.
'Where I'm from,' he ventured, 'the women who visit these places aren't the kind you marry. That isn't a slight on your establishment. It has its purpose. It simply isn't where I'd take a respectable lady for an evening, and I expect you and your clientele know that. Unless your lives are utterly different to mine, in which case my opinion shouldn't trouble you over-much.'
He spoke in an offhand, neutral sort of way, but it still felt awkward. It was the sort of thing the older boys at school might say, if they were being coarse, trying to shock. The sort of thing his cousin Corvus might say, and Corvus caused more trouble than he ought to. It certainly wasn't proper for young Arcturus to talk about. Some would say even to know about – but then he wasn't being Arcturus tonight, after all.