[ He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement when she rejected the additional offer of help. His face screwed into a confused look at her offer to pay him back. ] For a t-shirt and sweats I don't ever use? What kind of asshole do you think I am?

[ Rhetorical question. Hopefully she picked up on the hint of amusement in his tone. Seth waved her off with a hand. ] St Vincent's hands out shit all the time. Clothes. Blankets. Pay them back. [ Seth headed to the door, the grip of a revolver sticking out toward the left from the waistband at his back. ]