The question's settled as soon he smiles her way; there's no possible way Seth Bullock would tip his hat to her. The man's too old, for one, and too friendly another. There's no angry stalking up and down the room with his entire upper body frozen like he's worried the stick in his ass might fall out, no haranguing innocent people over their own fucking business, no quiet yelling like he's about to throw a punch because someone's run over his fucking boot.

But that doesn't mean she knows who he is.

She nods in his direction and averts her gaze, deciding to meander a bit and then maybe, casually-like, wander back his way to ask him some questions.