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Elorn gave a start when a hobbit, apparently the landlord, addressed him. He had stopped thinking about the man and dwarf, or even about the inn, and had been thinking of home.
“Oh. Good day,” he replied. “ Um, yes, I’d like… ale for now. Thanks.”
As the hobbit turned to go Elorn stopped him. “Excuse me, but how would I be able to get a message to a Farmer Maggot? Where exactly does he live? And I would like to get a room here. I don’t know how long I will be staying.”
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