Richard was stood outside where Door had told him to wait; she'd insisted she go in along and that worried him - since when did splitting up seem like a good plan?
They were in London Above where the favour that de Carabas had cashed in had taken them to an 'old friends' house.
An elderly couple hobbled past him, the woman nearly hitting him with her walking stick.
He'd gotten used to people ignoring him now and having to jump out of their way so, luckily, avoided being whacked.
There were hardly any elderly people in London Below (that probably because no one lived long enough to be considered 'old').
Richard supposed that thought should have scared him and was surprised when it didn't. In fact, what scared him more was that it didn't scare him.
Okay, he was definitely a little hungover because that almost made sense.
Pulling his jacket tighter around him, he wished Door what hurry up - it was getting very bloody cold. "Where the bloody hell is that woma-" She appeared before he had to finish his sentence.
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