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Still, there is nothing to indicate that there is anything more than here than a public house being appointed and run by an eccentric with a dark and bizarre sense of humor. The proprietor turns the false teeth over in his hands idly, with the coin still pinned between them. Finally he breaks the strained silence between you.
"One will take in all manner of guests under their roof, you know, keeping a House in a place like the Mount ... but I cannot ever say that I expected to have a hand-cart as guest, paid up for with a twenty-talent. Might just be the queerest custom I will ever see ... "
"You - you'll let me park the cart here? In a locked room?"
"Well ... for a few hours, yes. All of the rooms have been paid up for, but there is one that was taken by an - I think he was an actuary of some stripe - anyway, he is out on the Mount, and not going to take possession of his room until he returns for dinner. I'll open up his room my key, and you can park your cart in there. But if he is back before you are, then it has to go. Understand?"
"Yes, certainly, yes! Before dinner. I ... I doubt it will take too long to get things back in order up at the House, and ... yes. Before dinner. I can do that."
"Good. As for the payment, I don't have hourly rates for my rooms, so I'll need to figure something out. When you get back, we can settle up then."
With that, he turns and begins to pick his way through the stocks and stuffs of the storeroom, clearly intending for you to follow him. Yet you remain where you are. It is not lost on you that he has not returned the twenty-talent, which to put it mildly is frustrating and concerning. More than that, after what <span class="mu-i">could</span> have happened to you at the Perch, the talk of 'settling up' sent shudders up and down the length of your spine, and it was all you could do to hold yourself steady. Still, there is no indication that this man is Cut from the same Cloth that the previous proprietor was. In fact, one might interpret his reticence to return your coin as an indication that his interest in this transaction is entirely monetary.
Praying that it is the case, you follow him as he leads you deeper inside, through the storerooms and the servant's quarters to a relatively quiet hallway which has to be just off of the common room of the House. Light shines through several large-paned windows, similar to the ones that you saw from the street, and mounted between them are several bright copper lamps, their wicks ready and waiting for the kiss of a flame. Beneath your feet there are threadthick carpets which run the entire span of the hall. But perhaps the most impressive is that standing by the door you just passed through, is a stout little bookshelf, complete with curios, pamphlets, scrolls, and of course, books. You deliberately turn away from the bookshelf and try to peer into the common room. While you cannot see into it from here, what you can hear and smell of it makes you wish you could.
