Ten's quite content to fall into step with this Ms. Phryne Fisher. Lady Detective. With a title. And a calling card. And--
"You're putting it away?" This is absolutely straight over her question, when he's gesturing to the hat. The hat. The one she's tucking into a bag instead of keeping in her hands. Or wearing. The hat that started all this. Along with his giddy tilt-o-whirl of accidentally bumping into her. He knows he should consider finding his ruffians, but really a good hat and a great smile, and a Lady Detective's invitation definitely mean he can wait a little while longer.
It's not like they'll be where he left them. They never are. No matter how many times you tell them to stay.
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"You're putting it away?" This is absolutely straight over her question, when he's gesturing to the hat. The hat. The one she's tucking into a bag instead of keeping in her hands. Or wearing. The hat that started all this. Along with his giddy tilt-o-whirl of accidentally bumping into her. He knows he should consider finding his ruffians, but really a good hat and a great smile, and a Lady Detective's invitation definitely mean he can wait a little while longer.
It's not like they'll be where he left them. They never are. No matter how many times you tell them to stay.