[He rubs idly at his wrist, hidden beneath the desk. And doesn't realise that the silver's coming off a little, easing off with his mood. (His cure, though he doesn't yet know it, is to stop grumbling.)]
Sounds a fine shanty. I expect it on my desk at dusk tomorrow.
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[He rubs idly at his wrist, hidden beneath the desk. And doesn't realise that the silver's coming off a little, easing off with his mood. (His cure, though he doesn't yet know it, is to stop grumbling.)]
Sounds a fine shanty. I expect it on my desk at dusk tomorrow.