Miles took the man's brushoff with no hard feelings, besides it had served its purpose of getting the man to step back to a more comfortable distance- unworried that the man might pinch his pockets, he'd only get coat lint if he did. Besides, a contact had been made, and like the man said information was as good as gold. Especially when that information was about what ran as gold down here- money sure would be a bit more exciting to handle down here, no more crumpled bills or jingling change. Although he still wasn't too sure what an echo actually was, or what it was worth... and some of the information the man dropped reeked of subtle hints and clues he didn't quite understand yet...  

Information though, that was vital. Now he even had the Peddler's card, and that could prove to be something very useful in the future, to go with his somewhat improved directions to the Singing Mandrake.  

He gave the peddler a jaunty wink and a click in response to the man's farewell before continuing on his way, hunching down in his coat with his hat dipped down, he could almost pass undistinguished through the crowd. He used to be so practiced at disappearing like this, becoming just another one of the faceless masses, but this place ran to a peculiar tempo- like jazz played in a cathedral, offbeat and ringing oddly with solum, forbidding echos. He didn't quite have the trick of it yet, maybe he never would- maybe he would- and would be forever changed for it.