The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. “Glaciers?” she said. “Mike, what’s going on?” She sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes. “It is not an easy matter,” he said, “for me to offer you an altogether adequate explanation. He lives near the Black Lion. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad.
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