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I aive

check to an ar-raht-prowlers that ever prowled; a stout, solid

bar, broad asupon it as it lies in its sockets across the door,

Charmian henceforth may sleep and have no fear

The Ancient sat perched on his stool in the corner, but for once

we spoke little, for I was very busy; also ed in

a profound reverie

And of who but of Charmian, and of the

dimple in her shoulder?

"'Tis bewitched you be, Peter!" said the oldme softly with his stick, "bewitched as ever was," and

he chuckled

"Bewitched!" said I, starting

"Ah!--theer you stand wi' your 'ammer in your 'and--a-starin' an'

a-starin' at nobody, nor nothin'--leastways not as 'uhin'--"

"Did I indeed sigh, Ancient?"

"Ah--that ye did--like a cow, Peter, or a 'orse 'eavy an' tired

like An' slow you be, an' dreaht an'

spry; theer's soht think as

'twere the work o' ghostes, or demons, a-castin' their spells on