Following on from last week - Possibly part of a series.
He stops in front of her, crouching down to examine her. She looks into eyes etched deep within a heavy forehead.
"I don't know you." She says. "You're new. You can't tell me what I can do. I've been here a long time. People know me."
"I'm waiting for a boat." He says. "Probably the same one you are looking for. The thing is, I know where it is, because unlike you I didn't sit here while it rained hoping for luck to come with me."
She shakes her head.
"I don't believe you."
"The trouble is, as you say, I'm new here. I have no-one to sell to. You do. Sounds like we can make a deal."
She looks around, the rain is dying off, the boats are moving slowly, their crews busy with preparations, cursing each other as they collide, their horses getting into each other's way.
"How can I trust you?" She asks.
"I'm the one with something to lose." He replies. "You're looking for the Fragrance of Philanthropic Dissonance." He scratches at the greying stubble on his chin. "I'll tell you where it is."