I shoulder my way forward until I’m right in front of the table, and I hold out the coins. “Payment for a portrait?” My voice trembles a little. The movement of those quick fingers stutters briefly. “Perhaps you’d sit for a private portrait?” The hooded man’s voice is deep, rich velvet, the words rolling smooth and rounded from his lips. It’s not quite the voice I remember, but he could be altering it to suit his persona. My pulse flutters.
