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‘Your pardon, Miss,’ said Ibun, rocking his chair back down so that it now stood on all its legs. He sat his mug down on the flat top of the porch railing and stood up. ‘Is there something we can help you with?’
The Hobbit lass’ stare and the blossoming stain of red on her cheeks as she turned quickly away made him curious. That and the hint of a smile she had smoothed from her lips.
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Outside a dog, a book is man's best friend.
Inside a dog, it's too dark to read.
-- Groucho Marx
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