[ He takes the proffered card, mindful of his distance to keep from brushing against her fingers. That particular performance was one that didn't bear repeating, in his eyes. ]

Tried hustlin' the wrong man, one night.

[ He performs the shuffle again at the same speed – the false riffle, the false cuts, but he speaks as he does it. Something close to his usual magician's patter, speaking as a distraction, weaving words to redirect the eyes. ]

When I was young, didn't know too well how to swindle folks. Thought keepin' a face card or two in my pocket was clever, and it worked— see how I keep the cards separate here? You gotta twist 'em a little while you make the bridge.

Anyway. Played a game one night, won a couple hands 'fore another man stepped in, took the place'a' some poor bastards who'd called it quits. Swept us all clean, had this grin on his face the whole time.

[ He starts the shuffle again from the top, the movements slow and smooth. ]

Turns out, he'd been swindlin' folks longer'n I'd been alive. Guess he thought it was funny, the way I was ploddin' my way through the games and still comin' out on top, so he took me under his wing. Showed me a few things.

[ With a final flourish, the suicide king arrives back on top of the deck, and Faraday flips the card face down back on top of the deck. He places the entire deck on the bed between them – less risk of accidental contact, that way – and gestures to the cards. He smiles a little in challenge. ]

You ever shuffle cards before? Can't imagine a fine, upstandin' lady like you ever comin' in touch with such sinful things.