A hubbub sweeps through
the library, occasionally peppered with stifled giggles, as Larry,
Curly and Mo make their way toward the Angel and Fiona. Behind them,
they are dragging an average looking teddy bear, not much smaller
than they, its eyes missing, tethered with a battered dog lead.
“You leave my friends
alone,” Fiona warns, though she feels a little distracted by the
sound of the phone getting louder. “They've looked after me in
this ridiculous place.”
“Ah my dear,” the
Angel replies, “Not everything is as it seems.”
As he speaks, the three
midgets bow their heads, shifting from one foot to another, obviously
in great discomfort.
“Nothing in this
place is as it seems,” Fiona says, suddenly very tense. “Would
you like to try being a bit more specific?”
