Editing A Meeting with the Beak
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“Thank you,” I whispered. I pressed the towel harder against my head and breathed against the pain, and eyed the ogre towering over me. He eyed me back and in that appreciative way men eyed women, making me all too aware of the state of my clothing. If I’d been practically attired for the mission—that is to say, attired in male clothing—I would not now be ogled by a constable-ogre whilst half-naked and bleeding. Again, the incongruity of it all was downright farcsical and had the situation not been so serious I would have laughed. It was not the last of the surprise twists the evening, however.<br><br> | “Thank you,” I whispered. I pressed the towel harder against my head and breathed against the pain, and eyed the ogre towering over me. He eyed me back and in that appreciative way men eyed women, making me all too aware of the state of my clothing. If I’d been practically attired for the mission—that is to say, attired in male clothing—I would not now be ogled by a constable-ogre whilst half-naked and bleeding. Again, the incongruity of it all was downright farcsical and had the situation not been so serious I would have laughed. It was not the last of the surprise twists the evening, however.<br><br> | ||
− | “You know, your dad | + | “You know, your dad is something of a legend,” I heard Phillip say.<br><br> |
''Legend? My father? Truly?''<br><br> | ''Legend? My father? Truly?''<br><br> |