Half-full? Well enough. Sharpe only intended to nurse the drink, anyway. You just didn't get blind drunk amongst people you couldn't necessarily trust. So he took a short drink and allowed the burn to settle on his tongue before saying a single word.

Then -- eventually -- and fully aware that (for once) he had the reins of a conversation: "The man made a bad call, lass. And -- certan enough -- he said that souls were a serious business for you but...all he rightly wants is your forgiveness. And you'd better give it quick before he goes a-changing on you."

The pirate had seemed so...desperate, that day on the steps.