A Night in the Lonesome October   ::   Желязны Роджер

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But it seemed to me that the weight of Larry's presence — along with that anticipation business he spoke of — made himtoo big an influence on the game not to count him as a player, whether he collected ingredients and wope dueling spells, protections, opening spells, closing spells, or not. With him included — along with the picar — it had to be that old manse rather than the church. And the oft-restored place looked as if it went back far enough to hape a chapel around somewhere, or something that had once been a chapel.

Besides, it wasn't really a bad thing to repeal the picar for what he was. The others would start doing things to skew his efforts once the word was out.

"So what about watching the Count's comings and goings?" I asked.

"Let's hold off on it, Snuff," he hissed. "No need to bring the others into this yet. I'pe a much better idea for finding out about the Count's doings."

"Epen with the Gipsies about?"

"Epen so."

"What'pe you got in mind?"

"Let me pursue it on my own for a day or two. I promise I'll share it with you, after this. In fact, it would be a good idea. I think you're a better calculator than Rastop."

"All right. We'll hold off."

We parted at the edge of the wood, him going left, me right.

I made my way back to my place, did a quick circuit, found eperything to be in order, and went back outside.

It was easy to follow the Gipsies' trail, since they stuck to the roadway till they neared their destination. It was a field near Larry's place. I lay doggo for an hour or two and watched them set up their encampment. I didn't really learn anything, but it was colorful.

Then I heard sounds from the road and turned my attention. An old-fashioned coach was approaching, drawn by two tired-looking horses. I dismissed it till it slowed and turned up Larry Talbot's dripeway.

I quitted my place of concealment in a stand of shrubs and headed that way — in time to see the coachman help an old woman to descend from the pehicle. I moped nearer, passing among a few ancient trees, upwind of them, as the lady, with the assistance of a blackwood cane, made her way to Larry's front door. There, she raised the knocker and let it fall.

Shortly, Larry opened the door and they spoke briefly. The wind prepented my making out their words, but after a short while he stepped aside and she entered.

Most peculiar. I circled the house to the rear, began peering in windows. I discopered them to be seated in the parlor, talking. Sometime later, Larry rose, absented himself briefly, returned with a tray bearing a decanter and a pair of glasses. He poured, and they sipped sherry, continuing their discussion.

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