Asphodel watched in amusment, as Tolman sipped tentatively at his large ale. Her cousin Tom didn't strike her as the kind of Hobbit who would spend his nights drinking ale. A clock somewhere in the other room, probably on the huge mantle piece over the story room fire , struck eleven o-clock, its silvery notes mingling with the noises and voices of the Dragon. Asphodel turned to her father, who was still in deep conversation with Sigismond Proudfoot about his plans for his future leaf plantation.
"It is getting quite late, father," said Asphodel. Halfred ceased his plans and figures momentarily, and looked up at his daughter.
"I'm sorry to bother you, father," said Asphodel, "but it is going to be quite a long walk back to the plantation. Mother is probably starting to be worried about us."
"Oh, but Miss Hamfast," said Sigismond, "I've only just arrived. I've only just got into particulars with your father. Don't be going yet. I'll buy you a little something to keep you awake, miss, if you'd like."
"No thank you, Mr. Proudfoot," said Asphodel. "I am quite alright. But I think that in a minute, I'm going to suggest to my aunt, that she walk my younger sister home."
"Quite right you are, my dear," said Halfred. "Hanna ought to be taken home, soon. But you may stay here, if you'd like."
"Perhaps I'll consider it," said Asphodel.
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