I have now found the perfect disguise for my infrequent forays into Bree or elsewhere. A wig, a false moustache, and hey presto, it's Aegthil of Bree, not Aegthil of Gondor. Complete the outfit with a very sexy hooded thing that covers just about everything, and I have perfect confidence that Lady B, the superbobbit of crime, will never find me. Well, perhaps not perfect confidence, but I hope it will work.
I was going to show a picture to all my devoted fans, but then it occurred to me that might not be the best approach to anonymity. The ladies shall sigh in vain.
However, I must admit to being somewhat nervous about the BBB performance tonight. Lady B will surely expect me to be there, and will be planning on showing up herself, with her band of roughnecks. Will my disguise stand the test? If not, will I be the unwilling victim of yet more bobbit violence? Will it be my neck next time, instead of only my fingers?
But other questions occur to me as well. Should I try to suppress my enormous natural talent and charm so as not to make Lady B even more jealous? Perhaps I should restrain myself, try to prevent the ladies from throwing themselves at my feet. I could refrain from washing. I could wear nasty clothes. I could pick my nose. I could break wind loudly in the quiet passages.
I could even try to be polite to people who don't deserve it.
Would this work? Would this make me safe?
But one question occurs to me in the dead of night, over and over again, when all Madame Celestine's girls are sleeping, when the wind is howling over the Greenway, and spectres come to haunt the minds of men.
Will I ever be safe from Lady B?
I was going to show a picture to all my devoted fans, but then it occurred to me that might not be the best approach to anonymity. The ladies shall sigh in vain.
However, I must admit to being somewhat nervous about the BBB performance tonight. Lady B will surely expect me to be there, and will be planning on showing up herself, with her band of roughnecks. Will my disguise stand the test? If not, will I be the unwilling victim of yet more bobbit violence? Will it be my neck next time, instead of only my fingers?
But other questions occur to me as well. Should I try to suppress my enormous natural talent and charm so as not to make Lady B even more jealous? Perhaps I should restrain myself, try to prevent the ladies from throwing themselves at my feet. I could refrain from washing. I could wear nasty clothes. I could pick my nose. I could break wind loudly in the quiet passages.
I could even try to be polite to people who don't deserve it.
Would this work? Would this make me safe?
But one question occurs to me in the dead of night, over and over again, when all Madame Celestine's girls are sleeping, when the wind is howling over the Greenway, and spectres come to haunt the minds of men.
Will I ever be safe from Lady B?
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