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Chapter Two - Page 9

The following day proved hectic, Paige carting Cie all about London town in hopes of locating the perfect gown for the party scheduled later that evening.

Cookie had been left in Book’s care.  As for Books, Cie had been apprised of the origin of his nickname last evening during the dinner of steak and kidney pie, assorted breads and cheeses, and a delicious sherry trifle.

Books was a middle age, overly thin male, very studious – thus the nickname Books. Young Cookie adored him, telling Cie that the two of them would be reading all afternoon.  Cookie loved anything connected with reading.  Perhaps that was the chief reason she was so bright.

Finally, around mid-afternoon Paige discovered a quaint little shop containing a charming blue gown that she deemed perfect for her sister.

“It matches those eyes to a tee,” she drawled slowly as she inspected Cie closely in the dressing chambers, her adopted accent very heavy, almost sounding like an English Redneck to Cie’s flared ears.  Leave it to her sister to develop an entirely new language.

Nonetheless, Cie had tired of shopping. At this point she would have settled for sackcloth and ashes.  She only wanted to pay for the garment and find a nice comfortable chair to relax in.  Even her sister’s hot tea was beginning to sound appealing.

They quarreled a few moments, Paige winning out and paying for the gown, claiming she had money to burn, that this was her treat. Still, Cie felt miserable about the matter for the gown had been quite expensive, as well as the matching shoes and a blue jeweled necklace that Paige seemed hell-bent on adding to the ticket.

They drove to a secluded traditional British pub located on the helm of the city.  According to Paige, it was well renowned for its coffee.  The establishment was quaint, covered in moss and lichen; an assortment of foxgloves lined the short path leading to the massive wooden door.  The pub sign was etched with the symbol of Bacchus, the Roman God of wine – this also according to Paige.

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