parts, I assume all conversations run typically very declarative rather than interrogative.
While the monster hunters go in one direction, Missus Mister has asked me to go on another mission, which is more suited for a lady of my refinements, to find a local expert on monsters who lives in a cottage situated down a certain lane— the name was very European, and I cannot recall it now.
Thursday, May the Thirteenth
As I left the village to find this expert, upon a most handsome steed, down this unnamed road, I happened to find Mr. Longville wandering about. " Missus Dashwood," he would call me! He is most mercilessly amiss, and misses that I am not a Missus on every encounter. I am a miss, whether he wants me to be or not, not some middle-aged frump of a housewife, shackled to her husband and children and kitchen stove. No.
But I told him of my destination, and he insisted upon accompanying me to guide the horse and lecture me on his recent discoveries.
" Animals’ bones are frequently used in handicrafts in this region," Mr. Longville began, and he continued in this manner most tirelessly for the duration.
The mysterious lane led through a dreary, ancient wood, and I soon found myself almost glad for his company. An old woman stepped out onto the path a distance ahead of us, dragging a large bag behind. I cannot comment upon what was in those bags, only to say that after Mr. Longville ' s speech about uses for bones...
The path through the forest opened out into a meadow, and only some short trot off the path ended in front of a misshapen cottage. The old woman was just dragging her bag through the front door. She closed it without glancing behind.“ Here, at last, must be the old monster expert we have been looking for!” I said.
The little house was most awkwardly placed; the path seemed to be aimed towards some broken railing on the left, and one had to leave the path and take three steps through a patch of thistle-grass in order to reach the porch.
I lifted my hand to raise the knocker, and Mr. Longville called out,“ Hello? Is anyone home?”
The old woman inside heard us and bade us enter.
It was dark inside, and the looming shapes of furniture, stacked pans, and cloistered knick-knacks made me fearful that we should start some terrible avalanche of belongings.
The old woman sat in the far corner. Her features seemed abnormally large, and her skin bone-white, and I could not control the horror that rose inside me as the old woman turned her head, very slowly, in my direction. The lines of her face were so pronounced, her skin so unnaturally white... it was as though she was carved out of bone. This was no old woman. This was a witch... a witch wearing a very sinister mask.
I knew it was not safe to ask questions, but Mr. Longville had no such compunctions.
“ Do you mind if we come in? We’ re looking for a monster who is abducting children. Have you seen a monster during the night?”
A long, slow shiver passed through the old woman ' s shoulders, and I laid my hand on Mr. Longville ' s arm, intending it as a quieting gesture.
I said, " We are told you are an expert on monsters, and we come seeking your help. With your extensive knowledge of this area, we hope you will be able to give us any advice or information on the many local children who have been taken in the night."