His long legs that somewhat resembled sticks were what lead him into the main room of the mansion. With a watchful eye he looked around, letting his beak-like nose guide him.
"What is this place?," he said with an upturned nose. "Well, just as long as those pesky children aren't anywhere near here."
He brushes off his old, dusty vest and made his way
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"What?," he raised a hand to his chest. "No, of course not," he used the same hand to slick back one side of his grey pointed hair.
Then he proceeded to look down at the baby in Armand's arms. Disgusting, he thought to himself.
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He wasn't at all sure where he was or how he even got here. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in his old mansion the last night and then waking up this morning to come downstairs and find out he was in a completely different place. But he, being so full of himself, didn't want to admit to this.
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Mary Lennox, just returned from tending her garden, eyes the man with cool suspicion.
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"Yeees?," he bent over to meet her eyes.
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"Who wants to know?," he said sensing that he was being rather rude.
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"Count Olaf," he forcefully announced.
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