[ Sharpe leans against the railing, looking downwards. There aren't any shambling figures right at those moment, but he's keeping his eyes down anyhow. But he's still listening to Mia, and he snorts at those words. ]

I've seen those clothes they're selling, and none of 'em make any sense. [ By which he means: they don't look familiar. ] 'sides, I'm a Rifleman, and I ain't going ta wear other clothes when me uniform's good enough.

[ Pause, and he turns over to grin at her. ]

I don't smell that bad, do I?