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"Thank you," her husband agrees.

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The elderly alt doesn't think it would be a good idea to say 'you're welcome,' so he doesn't. But he does nod.

"Now, inside, to hand you money, embrace my inner glutton by eating, and then sleeping for another day."
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Isabella nods and gets up.

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As does Adarin. He looks at Lynn. "Thanks for the - history lesson."

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"You're welcome," she replies. "I will remain out here for a little while, playing cards with - the other you." She glances at his alt. "The other, other you."

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"And thank you for that, too."

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"And - let me know if he wants to talk to me. Please."

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"Of course. You'll know if I crash through a wall after trying and failing at the door."

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"Let's not. Say we did."
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Lynn snorts. "That was a joke. I've heard of knocking."

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Isabella snorts.

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"Miracles truly do exist."

And then, house-ward!
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Hello, Terrible Adarin's House.

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The house would say hello right back, and then insist that it is not terrible just for being associated with its owner. But it can't. Because it is a house.

Terrible Adarin retrieves money, and then offers it to his alt and his alt's wife.
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Isabella accepts it.

"Restaurant recommendations?" she inquires dryly.
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"A few." He rattles off the names of a few places to eat, gives some recommendations for what to have while there, and then gives some basic directions for how to get to each.

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Naturally, his alt recognizes exactly zero of them. "Thank you," he says, because he's pretty sure he is completely useless as a guide here.

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Isabella jots down notes. "Right then. Lunch, love?"

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"Sure, is there something you'd like to try while we're here?"

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"The fish sounds good."

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"Then we'll go with that," says Adarin, looking just a teensy bit like he's completely in love.

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His alt does not say a word.

But he does have opinions.
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There is a pause as both Adarins consider each other. And then completely out of the blue, the younger one says, "Forty-three point eight."

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"What, really?"
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