(o) moral of the story

KORBIN

And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,

The response was rather humble in his opinion, and his raised eyebrow expressed mild surprise. Of course, he wrote in reply, without any hesitation. Any time you like. If I'm not there, just tell Weaver or whoever is at the bar that it's on me.

Much as he still resented his sisters pet project, he had to admit it was a comfortable thing, to be able to lean on the establishment for trade. It was a name that had become well known as quickly as she'd said it would... which, of course, was another reason to quietly dislike it. Korbin hated being proved wrong.

Thanks for the help. I'll bring the lute tomorrow then. That said written down, he gave Glas a friendly smile and a wave, and turned to leave, slate tucked under an arm. His business being done, and with a lot more to do before the day was over.

Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.