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   Chapter 28 No.28

The Book of Deacon By Joseph R. Lallo Characters: 4836

Updated: 2018-01-19 12:03


"Good morning, miss!" she said, overjoyed to have a customer to serve. "Just have a seat anywhere you like and tell me what I can get you."

The entire left wall had a long wooden bench attached to it, with tables dispersed regularly along its length. It was there that she took a seat, sliding behind a table. She glanced at the other customer, a young man with white hair, who sat at the other end of the bench. He was intent on reading a thick, leather-bound book and took no notice of her. The smell from the kitchen was heavenly, a mix of baking bread and roasting meat. Myranda pulled back her worn hood and took in the tantalizing aroma. The waitress interrupted her quiet appreciation with the simple phrase.

"Miss?" she said.

Myranda shifted her gaze to the young lady.

"What would you like to start with?" the eager server asked.

Myranda's stomach rumbled a plea for haste.

"What do you have that is fast?" she asked.

"Well, the roast beef has just finished, and we have some biscuits still from breakfast, " she recalled.

"Gravy?" Myranda asked hopefully.

"What sort of a place would we be if we served biscuits without gravy?" the waitress said with a smile.

"Biscuits and gravy, then. And a glass of something besides wine, " she said, remembering the throbbing head after her last indulgence.

"Cider?" the waitress asked.

"Perfect, " Myranda said.

"Won't be a minute, " came her cheerful reply.

T

, " he said, his eyes still trained on the book.

The food was set before Myranda and she eagerly partook. He was right, it was delicious. When the edge had been taken from her hunger, she decided to give the thought swirling in her head a voice.

"What is that you've got there?" she asked, indicating the book.

"One of the unfortunate consequences of 'this.' Notes on dealers, " he said.

"Dealers?" she inquired.

"Weapons dealers, " he said.

Myranda frowned.

"You sell weapons, " she said flatly.

Desmeres tipped his head and squinted an eye. "Not sell--design. . . and collect."

"Really?" she asked.

"I detest people who lie to strangers, " he said.

"It was only a few days ago that I had even heard that such a thing as a weapon collector existed, and now I have met one, " she explained.

"There happens to be another one just two doors over. Waste of time though. The only thing of note in this town is the gravy, " he said.

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