I glance up as the door opens; the light from the windows is enough that it takes me a moment to make out the gentleman who has arrived.
"Good morning. Your pardon, sir, but have we met before?"

"Good morning," I echo, setting aside my cook. I do not believe anyone has almost-recognized me yet in this town. Perhaps I have reason to hope for some pleasant conversation. "It's possible," I add, levering myself to my feet and keeping one hand on the back of the chair. I shall be quite relieved when this cast comes off, and I offer my free hand. "Westin Sagert, and a good morning to you. What brings you here today--" and it comes together then, although I find myself unwilling to speak of the particulars. Still.

"I do believe we have met, yes," I say, considering him. "Do you happen to recall the circumstances?"