"Mrs. Honeycutt," Protego greeted with a smile. "A whiskey and a plate of whatever you've got on the menu tonight," he said, settling himself on a bar stool. He did like keeping up with his fellow high street denizens. He'd grown up in the family shop, and it got a little lonely having his own shop, even if Protego wouldn't trade it for anything. But he was a social creature by nature. "How's business been today?"

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