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. . . Or that innkeeper lass? Knew I'd get into trouble for thinking she were a Dwarf!"
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Pio smiled when she heard this bit of Biffo's conversation with himself. She swung the door to the kitchen open, and walked in quietly, keeping her eye on the Hobbit who stood at the stone sink on a low, red stool.
He did not hear her approach, as he plied his dish rag with great vigor over the platter in his hand. Up to his elbows in the soapy water, he paused occasionally to talk to the plates and cutlery, not minding that they did not answer him in kind.
'A nice job you've done here.' she said , coming up behind him. 'Despite what your cousin Belle has warned me of.' Biffo, startled by a voice other than his own, nearly dropped the platter he had just finished scrubbing.
Pio handed him a towel to dry his hands, and poured a pint for him. 'Thirsty - dish duty, or so I've always found it.' She pushed him gently out the door to the common room, saying there was a place for him in the Springle Ring if he wished to dance.
The door swung shut behind him, and she turned to the remainder of the dishes and hurried through them. 'Best not let Belle see the quality of this work!' she said to herself.
Once done, she put on a dry apron and went out to see to the needs of the patrons.