"Alright, alright!" Cohen pleaded, "Ye've won." Warwick smiled at his handiwork – hats dropped and weapons left from fleeing dogs. "Ye've won me, t'least, but ye haven't won it all, mate." Warwick furrowed his brow, a new look overcoming him.
"And that is?" he challenged. Cohen looked nervously to the sides.
"The dogs. No, no – the real dogs! Them coppers, they're out lookin' for ye! B-but ye didn't 'ear it from me, ye didn't!" With that, Cohen leaped away at a brilliant, graceful pace, leaving Warwick near his bag of wares. Finding no food, he took a portion of the coins and continued on his way, once more walking towards the port.
The stay was short-lived, however. "Oy! Aren't you the bloke from yesterday?"