His knowledge of Yaxley's character was at odds with his understanding of the man behind the counter's. He'd been around them both for a decent length of time—the gentleman's more often, but he felt he knew Yaxley better. On any other day he might have been inclined to take the gentleman's side (she was being irrationally angry, he thought, and rude) but the subject of the earring piqued his interest.

Once upon a time, on a day long, long ago, he'd taken one of Yaxley's earrings. He hadn't remembered it until just that moment, like her speaking the word aloud brought back a memory buried deep in the back of his mind, and suddenly he found his eyes gazing down at the counter in search of the object in question. He didn't want to look too interest, though, so he allowed his gaze to flicker back and forth between the gentleman, the counter, and Yaxley herself, as if he was trying to make out for himself what was going on.

"Don't tell me you're buying stolen goods now, Splitters," he said intentionally warily, adding a little tsk tsk noise for emphasis, "You know very well how women are with their jewelry. And I'll tell you, this one's unlikely to abandon the cause." He looked at her when he said this, his eyes playful, teasing. He couldn't be sure how she'd take it, but it wouldn't be the end of the world if he was able to push her buttons.

---