(no subject)
With the least said on the subject of "Merlinade" the better, I can also claim to have more pressing matters to see after. There's my office, primarily, which is no longer inhabitable thanks to Friday night's attacks on Knockturn Alley. The place is entirely water-logged, and while it appears that nothing of import was burnt to a crisp, several of the things I fetched from there this morning reek of smoke and petrol. In particular, there's a rare and expensive mood cloak that I convinced a man to relinquish to his downtrodden ex-wife that I fear will never function quite the same unless Gran can mend it. And if not her, then perhaps the Duke, who knows his way around such finery.
And I'm most certainly made ill by the stink of petrol. I've been coughing all day.
Perhaps I should drink some fortifying "Pixiepep" or "Dragongruel" or whatever those other tonics were. Then again, I don't want to make myself worse, do I?
And I'm most certainly made ill by the stink of petrol. I've been coughing all day.
Perhaps I should drink some fortifying "Pixiepep" or "Dragongruel" or whatever those other tonics were. Then again, I don't want to make myself worse, do I?