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. I'd better keep my eyes
on these until I can mention it to him." Tasslehoff stuffed
the items back into his pockets and started for the door.
"Maybe you should leave them here so Baron Krakold
doesn't think you took them," Woodrow suggested. "Af-
ter all, he's only just met you."
Tasslehoff's eyebrows arched again. "Yes, I suppose
you're right." Almost reluctantly, Tas pulled the items
from his pockets, letting his hands linger on the shiny
vase. He set them on a table near the door.
Heaving a sigh of relief, Woodrow led the way out the
door and down the stairs. He, too, had found in his room
a clean, white tunic, just a little bit short in the sleeves --
it must have been made for an unusually tall dwarf -- and
a pair of black breeches, also just a touch too short.
They met the baron at the base of the stairs. He was
dressed formally for dinner in a stiff, blue tunic with a
red sash and bright red breeches, all layered with tremen-
dous amounts of yellow piping and gold braid.
Shortly, Gisella appeared at the top of the stairs,
where she paused momentarily for effect before gliding
down the stairway and alighting with a flourish, swirling
her skirts. Red hair flowed down her back in luxurious
waves, and her round cheeks were flushed with hints of
crimson. The bodice of her saphire-blue dress was cut
dangerously low, and well she knew it.
Everyone was still admiring her entrance when she
threw herself into the baron's clumsy embrace, locking
her arms around his head and nearly stuffing his red face
into her ample bosom
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