[The shot is of the rowdy interior of the Lash: people drinking, dancing, some maniac sawing away on a fiddle, boots stomping--and Arkady's giggling in the background.]

Come on down, loves! Things are heating up around here and I've got two good hands to sling grog with! Don't tell me you're thinking of sleeping when there's fun to be had!

[Of course, Arkady herself is starting to long for a bit of sleep. Under the smile she is growing tired. A good barmaid has to be quick, cheery, keep a good memory and dodge pinches that come two or three thick at times. So eventually, she asks her cohorts to cover her while she ducks outside to grab some air. Once out the door, she finds a clear spot on the wall and leans against it, puffing out her breath and reaching up to rub her aching temples.]