"Job or curse and not a ducat to be found between'em -- eh?" Whitby repositioned herself, laying flat out on the bench. It was a small measure more comfortable, though her guts still ached.

"Another word of advice, then, young Captain," though she couldn't be more than twenty-five herself, and likely a few years younger. "Never take a job what doesn't pay in any currency but curses." A pause, then, as she tried to sort out all those double and triple negatives. "Aye. Yes. That's right."