Quoted By:
Father taught you that you must never refuse charity - and that thieves must have a very expansive definition of 'charity'. Anything unsecured is effectively just a gift to the first to come along who would be willing to take it. Just look at all of the stuffs and stocks that you pinched today; even things that you didn't immediately need and could readily buy. To be sure, that was before you made your resolution - but the point is that you don't want to live like that any longer, and you suppose that on some level, your refusal of hospitality here may be some quiet way of repudiating that greed and trespass which has so characterized your life, even if this hospitality is genuine. Perhaps even especially because of it. But hunger and the persistence of the Goodman are wearing against this resolution, as are the thoughts of how long it may end up being before you get a chance to eat again. And when to your acute embarrassment, your stomach actually does start audibly growling, you find yourself relenting and reversing on this point. Clearing your throat loudly, and hoping no one but you heard, you address the proprietor.
"Well ... it could be risked, if you so insist."
"Oh, I do. Myriam."
The serving-man wordlessly sets about, and the proprietor moves on shortly, continuing to work to work the room convivially. Welcome as the food will be, you are far from certain that you have made the right decision. Furthermore, there is quite the throng of threats and issues looming over your head. The most immediate of which is the possible return of the Poincares. Possible and potentially imminent. Initially, you assumed that the room they were sent to - Four of Cups - was empty, because Sulphreme's friend sent the pair of pains to his own room. But you cannot know that for sure; perhaps it might be worth asking as much. If it does turn out that there was someone in the room, odds are they are going to be made aware of the joke played on them much quicker than they would be with an empty room - and similarly, odds are they are going to be markedly more upset about it. You would have some forewarning, and unless they show up in the next dozen or so seconds, an opportunity to reverse course and bail out of the room before any unpleasantness can boil over and blanche you. Or ... or perhaps you are already out of the proverbial woods. After all, you don't know how far away the room actually is. It might be right outside the door, and the Poincares have already given up and retired for the night. In which case, there would certainly be better questions to ask or conversations to have.
