The smell of cigar smoke was the only thing which could ever calm Ramez down, and so as he inhaled the fine tobacco he sniffed at the smoke which filled the air and wafted about the area. With spots of blood still on his hands despite them being vigarously washed, he reclined into the chair and sighed. This was so different to the other parts of London. He still had to maintain his public image and so he opted to absorb his anger rather than vent it and take in the scenery around him.
Teh scenery which for the moment was filled with pretty girls passing without so much of a blink from the Spaniard. He never bothered with girls save to scratch the itch that occurred from time to time. As he had no itch at the moment, their flirty little smiles and dainty gestures went without much reaction making them rather annoyed and hustling off to find some other, more willing gentleman. Well, he could not deny - he was no real gentleman. The fact that he had been beating in the skull of a former associate half an hour before was proof for that.