(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

As she did, the tattoo around her neck squirmed. "You again, eh, cutter? I
tell you I won't give the name and number back. Tell you what - using this
name and number's increased me fortunes. I'll pay good money for it, and
he can buy hisself a nice new one, how's that?"
I shook my head. "I don't think that'll cut it. Give me the name and number."
"How about a nice twenty coins? That should tide the wee dear over 'til he
can get a new set, eh? Be a dear and go ask him if that's what he wants for
it."
"How about if I buy it from you, if you're so willing to put a price to the
name?"
She looked at me as if I were mad. "Are ye totally barmy? O' course I won't
sell me name!"
"Why not?"
"Because it's me name, berk! Ye don't sell yer name!"
"You- you contrary woman!" I snapped.
Her crooked smile faltered, but she still managed to make one, "There are
worse things I've been called, dearie."
The despondent man looked up to me, a glimmer of hope in his eyes, yet he
spoke as emotionlessly as ever. "Has she given you my name and number?
She has offered money, has she not? I cannot live. Money means nothing
without a name. Get me my name. Has she given it?" His eyes crawled
across your face, watching intently.
I nodded, "She has offered money for them."
"No money can buy a name. No amount can buy a number. Coin is scant
consolation for identity. Surely you can understand."
I sighed, rubbing my temples, "Yes, I can. I'll do what I can. Farewell."
Radine's face crumpled as she saw me again. "He has refused again, hasn't
he? And sure you've come to take back what's rightfully mine."
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