Fiona,
realising she's holding her breath, releases it slowly. “Well,”
she says, “That was an anti-climax.”
“Not
necessarily,” Strauss replies, as the three midgets climb on top of
each other and don their cloak. “A corridor in the Weave can hold
many surprises. I believe, m'lady, that I should take the lead.”
“Why? So
you can get hurt instead of me?”
“M'lady,
we are a comedy trio. Misfortune is our stock in trade, and we are
not easily damaged.”
“A comedy
what?” she asks, but Strauss is already making their way down the
corridor.
