[ It's Winter. If she didn't have a few drinks, she would have burned up and ran away after recognizing him. Tipsy-drunk Marcille needed to know this answer, and she seems a little discouraged about it, swiveling back to face the bar. ]
A couple hundred... [ She says miserably and knocks back the rest of her drink. She wipes her mouth and looks back at him. ] How-How much? Five hundred?
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A couple hundred... [ She says miserably and knocks back the rest of her drink. She wipes her mouth and looks back at him. ] How-How much? Five hundred?