"Thank you." Tang Xin said, her voice lightly hidden among her hair, difficult to discern if one did not listen carefully. "I will remember."
Old Quill raised his eyebrows, picked up a finger-thick cigar, and lit it with a snap: "Miss need not be polite with me, I'm just your subordinate, just tell me if there's anything you need."
"Then please smoke by the window, I don't like this smell." Tang Xin said.
Old Quill hadn't expected Tang Xin to so quickly apply what she learned to him, laughed twice, then didn't mind too much, he stepped over Victor, lying there like a dead dog, drew back the blackout curtains, and puffed out the spicy smoke with a strong black pepper aroma, his weathered eyes gazing into the distance.
Jim nervously swallowed a mouthful of saliva, having worked with Old Quill for a while, never having seen him act so out of character.
