Lockett knocks on the locked Gentleman's Club. No one answers of course, it's late night, but Lockett can wish can't he.
[Caitlin]
Small but wiry - that's the usual impression folks get looking at this woman, who appears to be in her early thirties. Slim and standing just over five feet, she might at first glance seem somewhat frail. A closer look reveals a hint of strength behind that compact frame, and weathered hands that look like they've done some honest work in their day. Her face bears a light tan, her sandy-blonde hair bleached almost white by too much sun. The harsh, bright color seems almost at odds with her dark brown eyes and delicate, features. Her looks are rather plain, a situation not helped any by the unflattering bun her hair has been pulled up into.
Even her clothing is plain, though that's as much a matter of economics as it is fashion sense. A dark blue cotton skirt hangs straight down, settling over a muslin petticoat and plain but functional walking boots. The lace collar of her white blouse is the only part of her attire that shows any flair.
Indeed, why would they? And if they were, you would think they would stop it when a young woman addressed them, but not Lockett. "Wov Hevo, Wryve gop a pwinter." Yeah, that made a lot of sense, even Lockett belatedly realizes it. Plucking his thumb from his mouth he tries again. "Good Evening, Miss. Yes. I fear I have a terrible splinter. See." Without invitation he thrusts his thumb forward into Miss Caitlin's face, though in this light the chance that she will actually see anything is absolutely unlikely. "You wouldn't have a hat pin would you?"
Never mind that she isn't wearing a hat...
Caitlin shrinks back a bit as the thumb looms in front of her eyes, and shakes her head with an apologetic smile. "No, I'm afraid I don't. I do have tweezers back at the boarding house, though..." She motions toward the eastern side of town, then looks back toward Lockett.
"Truly, you do? Well then, Miss, you just became my Florence Nightingale!" He steps in gait to follow her, offering an introduction. "Mr Nathaniel Lockett The Third."
Caitlin grins, seeming pleased by his remarks as she starts across the square beside him, "Well, that, sir, is a high compliment to a nurse." She nods to him and says, "Mrs. Caitlin Lockhart." She emphasizes the last syllable with a smile, noting the similar sounds between their names. "It's good to meet you."
Lockett all but squeals with delight, "Lockhart? Well isn't that just a funny coincidence." he trots along beside her, keeping in pace. "And a nurse you say? Well that is just fortune's luck smiling today." Wait. Maybe he should be at the card tables then. Really. He stops following, hesitating before the saloon as they pass it. The throbbing of his thumb wins out and he continues after her. "Are these exceptionally large tweezers?"
Caitlin looks a little puzzled as Lockett stops in front of the saloon, but once he makes up his mind she continues on to the boarding house. "Well, they're the normal size," she replies, confused by his question. "So what were you working on?" When he got the splinter, presumably.
Working? The man bursts into jovial laughter. "On no, Mrs. Nightingale. I don't work in construction." Wouldn't dream of it. He looks down at his reddened thumb and says, "This came from the saloon porch. Must have just slipped my hand along it just right." He sucks it again, widened eyes looking her way, "Wish thish hurt?"
"Oh," Caitlin says sheepishly. Though Lockett didn't exactly strike her as the construction type, she figured it something more than a saloon porch gone awry. "That does happen." Pausing at the steps up to the boarding house, she looks over at him, "Will it hurt?" She tries to translate what he said, "Considerably less than it does leaving it in there."
Lockett recalls his manners, he does have them and exercises them frequently. He opens the door for the nurse and waves her inside, "Well honestly, I'm very pleased to hear it isn't going to be a hat pin. I really do not like hat pins stuck into my flesh and dug around after the smallest slivers of wood." And that's what Mrs. Lockhart is soon to find out, that Mr. Lockett has just a small, quite tiny sliver, though it is just beneath the skin.
"And rightly so - it's not a pleasant experience," Caitlin agrees readily. She smiles as Lockett holds the door and steps inside. "I'll just be a moment to get them from upstairs."
Caitlin heads upstairs, returning a few moments later with the aforementioned tweezers and a small, unlabeled jar. "So what is it you do in town, Mr Lockett?" Ruling out construction still leaves a great variety of possible careers.
Lockett regards the jar with immense skepticism. "What's that for?" Oh, she asked a question. He waves his other hand flamboyantly and says, "This and that..." Another smile, though laced with obvious nervousness. "Mostly I play with men."
"This is a salve. It'll keep it from hurting," Caitlin explains with a smile. One of Kei's good old herbal remedies, though she doesn't mention that part. His response earns him a confused look. "You... play?" she echoes questioningly. "Play what?"
Lockett blinks at Caitlin with a confused expression. He sighs aloud and says, "Cards....poker? Did I not say as much?" He did say that didn't he? He plays /cards/ with men. That was what he meant to say, little Freudian slip there. Lockett looks downright amused at Mrs. Nightingales expense, he really seems to think he said that. He thrusts out his thumb again, allowing the nurse to take a look.
Oh, so that's what he meant. Had Caitlin wondering there for a moment. She smiles slightly. "I see. You must be pleased by the new club, then." They play cards there, don't they? She peers at the injured thumb, turning it slightly so she can see better in the light. "Ah, there it is. Doesn't look too deep."
Lockett can't look, he just cannot look. He won't look. He averts his gaze and stares at the wall. "Yes! I am very pleased, though they will not answer the door even to tell me when it will be open." He sighs dramatically. "But truly it would be a godsend to play cards outside all the smoke and smell of cows."
Caitlin's eyebrows go up. "They're not going to smoke in the club?" She removes the splinter with swift efficiency, trying to hide her amusement at Lockett's squeamishness. "There you go - just a little dab of this and you'll be right as rain." She unscrews the top of the salve jar.
Lockett looks back, opening one eye then the other. "Oh, I suppose they will, but it will be fine cigars and pipes I would hope. Less of that home grown raw tobacco that burns at the eyes." He peers at the salve then his thumb, "You already took it out?"
"Oh, I see." Well, not really. But what does a nurse know about the finer points of cigar smoking? Caitlin smiles and nods, "Yes, all done." She smears some of Kei's salve on it, just for good measure.
Lockett looks at his thumb and indeed it feels quite good. No more thumb sucking for Lockett! "That is just wonderful. Tell me, do I owe you anything for your fine handiwork?"
Caitlin shakes her head, "Oh, no, that's not necessary," she says readily. "Happy to have been of help." She puts the top back on the jar.
Lockett just beams at Caitlin and disappears up the stairs to find his room.
Angelique is heading eastwards and she heads towards the restaurant. Seeing Caitlin, she pauses and smiles at the woman - casting a curious glance towards Lockett as he heads off. "Good day, Mademoiselle Lockhart."