“If you were that way inclined then you wouldn’t have spent half your life penniless and puking in a gutter – you’d be off in some marble palace somewhere living like a lord and drinking yourself blind on fine wine. You wouldn’t be slumming it with a godsdamned lady of sheets to find out who killed an old friend.” “Charra–” She waved a dismissive hand. “I own the words, Walker. They can’t hurt me. Other people won’t forget what I was, so neither should I. And I meant every word.”