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...attracted by the smell of the lanolin in Morrison's pure wool plus-fours, the Yeti appeared. It shambled towards our protagonist, a great reeking hulk of a creature. The Sherpa hurled down the hamper, crying "you can stuff yer poxy shilling!" and ran off.
Morrison rose slowly, crouched and ready for fight or flight, but the Yeti did not seem disposed to attack. Its fur was knotted and tangled, but as it approached, Morrison saw that the locks were braided with small shells and coloured pebbles. It wore a ragged loincloth, and a belt from which several pouches hung.
The Yeti stopped, and proffered an object that it had clasped in its hand. Morrison stared in shock as he recognised... |
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