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Too Old For This Nonsense

With permanent cigar fogging his path, the retired major stood atop the roof of Popplefot’s Blacking and looked over the edge.

“That girl talks me into the darndest things. It is for the good of the young, I must concede. If it will keep her from messing with these blasted fumes, then try I must. We could hardly afford to lose her.”

Steadying himself by holding the edge, he slid over the side dangling by the rope. Reaching the top level of windows he worked all the top glass open enough to vent the awful vapours from the urchins’ prison, nearly losing consciousness as the ghastly cloud of gas enveloped him.

“Good Heavens. I can see why she’s been so concerned. How can the poor creatures breathe this?”

Scrambling back onto the roof, he took a couple of deep breaths to clear his swirling head.

“Done, and evidently unobserved. Now stay out of this dungeon Eloise, for Goodness’ sake.”

Stashing the rope and readying for the airship to pick him up, Major Sole looked over the city and puffed his cigar before setting off on his next task.

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