Suspicious eyeing the scene that had just unravelled in front of him, George remained quiet, letting his appearance and presence speak for him. These women clearly knew who he was. Not even five minutes in town and he had already been recognized. 

Slowly stalking closer to the woman, he cleared his throat. "I'm lookin' for some high quality rope," he told the woman with his voice low and rough. He would let her imagine what he was going to do with it. The woman in front of him seemed to become more attractive by the minute. Something about her looked awfully familiar. She looked just like a prostitute he had seen some time ago who hung around a gang, who's name currently had escaped him.