There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper. The procession now wound its way, without further interruption, along Holborn. She felt her canines growing. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. Holding a link into the place, which had the appearance of a deep pit, Blueskin noticed a body richly dressed.
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