There was the noise of a bolt shot back, and the door opened a few inches, enough to show a long snout and a pair of sleepy blinking eyes.
Harry: I'm afraid Father's feeling a bit under the weather. […] I am sure that he'd appreciate a little visit from you... Edmund: Oh. Well, I'm sure I can pop my head round the door... Harry: ...sort of nowish.
The foe is profligate, and run.
Oft would he cry, when treasure he surpris'd, 'Tis Baalish gold in David's coin disguis'd.
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