"I tell you, mmph mmph, I'm going to go! I think I can walk. . . I can talk about close enough to normal, and my hand. . . well, it hurts terribly, but between the doctor's assistance, mmph mmph, and the fairies who've visited nightly or thereabouts, I think I will do fine!"
This, of course, to a stray helper at the Hospital. Aloisius Treadwell stands wearing a new, bright yellow robe (and accompanying pajamas, boots, and the rest) to replace the one Catch had bloodied horribly for him. His cane is in his left hand, his belly is cradled by the recovering right one, and now, he finally wants a good meal. Relieving stomach of hand long enough for patting a poofy yellow hat atop his head, he promises to send payment for their services, and out the door he toddles, making the way to the Broken Dagger.