Montana briefly stood, and thanked their server for bringing them their drinks. He left his payment on the tray, along with a small bit of foreign currency, a few pounds by the looks of it, as a tip. He placed Jeffery's drink in front of him first, and his second. The other males surprise perhaps said a bit more than expected. It at the very least said kindness was not something he expected in London, or at least from a stranger, at least to Montana. Along with his weather marked look, he had obviously experienced the unkinder aspects of humanity during whatever journey he was on. It spoke of experience. 

[b]"My pleasure, and not at all, would be a bit presumptuous of me to be off-put by the wear and tear of travel."[/b]

Montana wiped the rim off his glass slowly, and gave his drink a small sip. 

[b]"I'm hesitant to potentially spoil a relaxing drink with talk of work, but I must say your choice of weapons leave me curious."[/b] In regards to the short sword he wore at his hip.

[b]"Certainly more function than fashion."[/b]

His dark eyes settled on the boy who had undoubtedly been caught by the glamour of the woman in crimson. To him, the urchin was like a magpie who had spotted a pearl in the mouth of a great beast. Perhaps disdain or flippancy would work in his favour.