Valefor breezes in, waving a hand to dismiss his doorman. "Take the evening off, James, m'boy."
"Good take today, sir?" The rumpled-tuxedo-clad Calabite drops into a bow as Valefor passes.
"Ah, the best, the best, James. Today I stole the Pope."
"It's a new one. One would have thought they'd have had better security after last time..." Valefor shrugs out of his stylish leather jacket and drops it on the silk sheets of his bed. "Go off and steal yourself a drink, James, and don't forget to toast my health!"
"Very good, sir." Mr. James bows once more. "There is nothing I can do to aid you...?"
Valefor's down to his pants now, and heads over to the closet to change into his silk dressing gown. The door slides open and Mr. James catches, very briefly, a glimpse of a wide-eyed figure, struggling against his bonds, making vague desperate noises through his gag.
"No, thank you, James," Valefor says, snagging his robe. "You're dismissed. ...Oh Genubath, do shut up, there's a dear."
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