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The Bookmaker at the Inn, part 4

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... continued from above

When she had gone, he settled down with a sigh of relief and was about to put out the light at last when the door burst open once more and the proprietor himself stomped in, glowing with indignation. "What's the matter with you," he roared. "I've got to listen all night to my daughters moaning an' wailing, the most luscious gals in this county, because they all try to show you hospitality an' you won't give one of 'em a tumble. Ain't us Evens good enough for you?"

 

"I'm sorry," said the transient. "But I told you when I registered that I'm a professional bookmaker: I only lay Odds."


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