I am Gwendolyn Goblin, soon to be chief on Goblin Mountain. Now get out of the way before I move you out.
Ho, ho, ho. It is to laugh. You can't move me out, you skirted goblette. You must pay
..
So you're stuck, goblette, Hugh Mongous said. Pay.
This is outrageous! Gwenndy said, stamping her little foot.
..
“Cups, glasses, containers, bottles, mugs—”
“Goblets?”
Whatever.
“Nothing interesting,” Gwenny said, hoping the demoness would go away. There was no point in correcting her about the distinction between a goblet and a goblette, or in reminding her that there was only one goblin in this party. They had enough problems without having them complicated by a supernatural creature. Demonesses were supposed to be less worse than demons, being mischievous rather than mean, but their mischief could be formidable.
He [the werewolf] kept pressing his forefinger and thumb together to check his nails—no wolfiness so far—so he kept going for it.
Ar. Safely in harbour / Is the Kings ſhippe, in the deepe Nooke, where once / Thou calldſt me vp at midnight to fetch dewe / From the ſtill-vext Bermoothes, there ſhe's hid; …
The wind had dropped, and the snow, tired of rushing around in circles trying to catch itself up, now fluttered gently down until it found a place on which to rest.
