Peony saw the man come into the inn. He looked mysterious and he took a seat in the corner. She rose from her own seat and headed over.
"Hello there," She smiled reaching out one hand for a handshake and using the other to wipe a strand of red hair out of her, "May I sit with you?"
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"Let us live so that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry." - Mark Twain
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