I couldn't hear exactly how she phrased things—probably something like, "See that wild-assed haole in the corner? Says he wants to buy you a drink. If you happen to drop your credstick, kick it home before you bend over to pick it up, huh?"—but it didn't really matter. Te Purewa—Mark Harrop—shot me a fulminating glance from under his night black brows, but I saw there was a new element in his glare—curiosity.