Zoe should be worried. Wounded animals were more likely to attack than not. And David wasn't really much more than a wounded animal, really.

Weren't most of the old Spades, once pushed out of their polish and manners?

"Ah, little accountant." He must assume that she handled the money for his little stay of Deck, which would put her squarely in the camp with everyone he already hated almost as much as himself.

But dirty, gaunt, and exhausted David still manages to make his address smoothly. "It seemed like such a lovely day, who could waste it?"