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Walked Down the Street
He never made it a secret that he hated this neighborhood. Or, rather, that he hated going through it at any hour of the day, especially during daylight hours. And, to be fair, he'd never actually told Mr. Prosser this, but he'd told the rest of the lads back at the boarding house and therefore it wasn't a secret at all, was it? Not if Jack knew, anyway, the bastard. Izzy was very happy they didn't even work out of the same place, mainly because Jack actually made quite a bit more than he did, so why he lived at the boarding house was a mystery, aside from the fact that he apparently used his room for little more than a glorified storage closet.
It was much easier to think about that than to consider his surroundings. The decadently carved stone buildings and fancy shops and people in their expensive outfits really only served to make him nervous. Izzy might have been well-dressed for someone of his standing and means, but he knew full well he was an outsider and that meant the coppers knew too. It didn't help that, right now, he felt like a starving wolf on a farm of very oblivious sheep and was trying very hard not to act on it. Why Mr. Prosser insisted on bringing him to his house was beyond Izzy, but aside from the walk there and back, he couldn't complain much. After all, it meant some damn good food if he didn't mind the servants looking at him funny.
Perhaps he should have been paying attention. Then, he might have noticed that he was walking faster than most people run, and in the cacophony of human scents upon the air he might have noticed that when he passed by the smell of a fine perfume, he was actually walking into it. Immediately, he turned on his heel and managed to keep from falling down. He'd walked into a lady who from the looks of her clothing was probably pretty high up on the ladder or at least wealthy. If it had been possible for Izzy to turn even more pale, he would well have done it. Hastily, he took off his hat and bowed a little, offering her his hand. "Oh my - dreadful sorry, madam! I - I - sorry, can I help you?"
( Right into a coincidence. )
It was much easier to think about that than to consider his surroundings. The decadently carved stone buildings and fancy shops and people in their expensive outfits really only served to make him nervous. Izzy might have been well-dressed for someone of his standing and means, but he knew full well he was an outsider and that meant the coppers knew too. It didn't help that, right now, he felt like a starving wolf on a farm of very oblivious sheep and was trying very hard not to act on it. Why Mr. Prosser insisted on bringing him to his house was beyond Izzy, but aside from the walk there and back, he couldn't complain much. After all, it meant some damn good food if he didn't mind the servants looking at him funny.
Perhaps he should have been paying attention. Then, he might have noticed that he was walking faster than most people run, and in the cacophony of human scents upon the air he might have noticed that when he passed by the smell of a fine perfume, he was actually walking into it. Immediately, he turned on his heel and managed to keep from falling down. He'd walked into a lady who from the looks of her clothing was probably pretty high up on the ladder or at least wealthy. If it had been possible for Izzy to turn even more pale, he would well have done it. Hastily, he took off his hat and bowed a little, offering her his hand. "Oh my - dreadful sorry, madam! I - I - sorry, can I help you?"
( Right into a coincidence. )