Noah's eyes flashed wide at the mention of twenty pounds. He had been about to take some bread at last, but paused, simply because the bigger bait distracted him. "I wouldn't go home at all." He'd be damned if he let his parents drink that. "I'd go to my hide-out, and make a plan."

Quentin lets that revelation from the lad sink in. Since it really did say everything he could have said about his situation at home and the people who lived there. "And what, exactly, would that plan be? Have you given it any thought at all?"

"I dunno. I never had even as much as a pound..." he said. He took a piece of bread, and used the knife by his plate, rather than the butter knife, to spread butter on it. He really hadn't ever thought this far ahead, so he wasn't sure how to answer the man. "I suppose I'd open an account at the post office, so no one could steal it..."

On second thought, he wasn't sure if his parents wouldn't still find a way to access it. With that thought in mind, he stuffed the bread into his mouth. He was used to taking what he could take, before someone could take it away from him.

"Try to eat a bit slower, please." Quentin says mildly. "No one is going to steal it from you hear." With that small piece of manners out of the way. "Going to the bank or post office to keep it safe is an excellent start. But despite how large the sum seems, it is not going to last forever. What would you do to bring in more money?"

Noah nearly choked on his bread, and so he took the man's advice to heart. He shrugged. "Continue workin' small jobs. I guess if I have better clothes and can keep 'em clean, I can get jobs more easily... What do you think I should do?"

"If I were in your position?" Quentin strokes his chin musingly for several long moments. "I would likely rent a flat of my own. Assuming that like yourself, I also had a little brother I would move him into it as well. Do my best to make sure he is cleaned and fed and sent to school to ensure that he doesn't suffer the same hardships I do. Then I would find a tradesman and see if I could secure an apprenticeship with what remains. A skilled trade like a carpenter doesn't necessarily require you to have your school ticket if you can learn basic figures on the job and it would ensure that I would always be able to find work." He says after some consideration. "It also keeps myself and my younger brother away from the people that would try to use the windfall for other things."

Noah looked at the man puzzled. "A tradesman wouldn't take on the likes of me. I got a face as says I'm stupid." As his father liked to remind him. He thought and added: "But I'd make sure me brother is clean and has a boots, so he doesn't have to miss school." Seriously, the kid smelled; even Noah couldn't get used to it. "Will ye give me money, so I can buy 'im boots, ser?"

"It's a possibility," Quentin says simply. "However, I would disagree. I do not think you have the face that says you are stupid. You are a face that could perhaps use a good cleaning, but I've seen and heard nothing from you that suggests you are stupid." Quentin says simply.

Noah stared at the man stupidly, mouth half-open, before he remembered to close it. He was pretty certain he was stupid, and was surprised that someone would think he wasn't. "Well... I suppose I could try...?" He looked at the man with a little frown. "But what do you want in return?" He knew one reason why wealthy gentlemen went slumming, and he wasn't that kind of guy.

"We already established why I am doing this." Quentin reminds the boy. "Charity, kindness. Whichever term you use, my stack in this is that I am capable of helping you and therefore see no reason not to do so." He says simply. "Though if you want to do something for me in return, an honest and earnest effort to improve yourself would be what I would want to see."