It's like chocolate without the calories. It's the most indulgable sin if you believe in that kind of thing. Perfume is his language. It's the bread and butter that gets the bills paid but he was born into fortunate circumstances and never has to worry about things like that. He is self aware enough to understand his lucky status.
McSweeney's half here, half on safari, all for ambergris and oud. During his travels he reaps the benefits of exotic locations, imports like mad and makes lasting friendships. It's how he whisked away Zeddock Bellam from Nipoor. And then there are those undying whispers and bets on whether or not they've ********. It's not like McSweeney does anything to quash those rumors. But together the three, Morecambe included, develop a mutually beneficially symbiotic business relationship by word of referral. She supplies the herbs and greenery necessary and they spoil her with faraway goods. In reality, she's the one who holds down the fortress while they fetch her heart's fancies. He's mostly gone but when he's available and tending his own shop, customers are in for a treat. Honesty is his most financially rewarding facade.
