Quoted By:
As you hike up your dress for the walk up to the open front door, you briefly reflect on all of the bizarre shingles that you have seen this afternoon, before you get yourself focused on the task at hand. You can hear idle chatter from the far corner of the yard which is out of sight around the back of the coach-house, as well as from inside. Would it make more sense to speak to whoever was running the floor of the establishment, or to a hired-man? Well … there seems to be custom in the house at the moment, and speaking to the hired-men would presumably keep you out of the sight of the floor. That is an appealing proposition, to be sure, but is that what someone who would be wearing a dress – or rather, a 'worn piece' – like this would do? You doubt it. Still, you have to weigh that against who knows how many additional witnesses.
You go back and forth on it a bit, but as you approach the open door, you decide to head in, figuring that you can rely on your 'worn piece' to protect you from being recognized as the responsible party for the Euthyphro knock-down. You take a quick but deep breath to fortify yourself, and then you step into the threshold, turn about and close your parasol, then bring yourself about face once more.
The typical common room of a coach-house is the common room of a public house writ small, and this establishment is no exception. In the room, lit well both by window and lamp, you can see a stair leading to the second story, where the overnight rooms must be, and you can see a door that leads into the kitchen. There is some custom present, waiting on bench, at board. One or two of them have food and drink in front of them, the rest have contented themselves with just drink. No one is eating or drinking at the moment, however. Instead, they are all looking at you. While a part of you is just as scared and intimidated as you were when you first walked into the Harpoonist's Perch, you are able to find a bit of steel from somewhere, and you stride out into the room … making sure that you keep clear of the tables this time. You head straight over to the clerk, overseeing the room from his perch behind a high counter off to the side. Behind him are posters that depict cities and sites of interest, with their names written out underneath them in Reichtounge and Immortal – an unusual touch. There is also a narrow doorway behind the counter, through which you can see a narrow hallway, illuminated by light filtering through the thick glass panes of the windows.
