Snippet #957152

He was one Pleasant: one Pleasant pressed up against the door jamb as the downpour missed this one Pleasant by inches, which was distinctively unpleasant. It was known as the Marauder's Inn, but Pleasant Gill did not feel like a marauder. He missed his old Fine Fern, with its earth tones and constant shushing by the tottering Mrs. Wilkins. It was said that in the early days, there were lines outside the door for a chance to sit at the bar and pretend she was your wife. There were no more lines and no more pretenders, but it was all the same to Pleasant. He had his peaceful corner, and as long as it was there, he was happy.

Thus, it was Pleasant who was most shocked by his own decision. Yes, Broderick had nudged and encouraged, but ultimately, it was Pleasant who had chosen to take the coach. For Broderick, he would give this a try. After all, there must be something to this "Stock" business, however minor or insignificant. Shaking off his parasol, he slipped quietly into the smoke-filled room, anxious but curious.