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Doc worked hard on his old bad habit.....gambling....and he didn't lose a step, running a table on behalf of the house. Even with a good, hard buzz going, he kept on collecting, at one point handing Mr. Finnegan a satchel of C-notes, "winnings for the house." He made it a point to entice visitors to the table, not the locals.
"So tell me, Tim," he asked while shuffling at one point, "you get those Bretonian MI's in here often? I noticed you threw one out not long ago. I thank you. I don't need their press." He quickly toasted the tossing and started dealing the next hand. As he was, he noticed the leather wearing brunette walk in. He was just tipsy enough to forget that he belonged to someone.