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Denegal sat with his new acquaintances, somewhat ill at ease. The one who had left had definitely been put out by the other's sugestion that he join the little group. Again, Denegal wondered what had brought these men here to the Shire.
“Tell me friend why have you come out here in them? It worries me that any man would want to be seen in them”
The Gondorian's statement was blunt and to the point, no doubt about that. Well, Denegal could see that the slippers were a little hard to understand. Denegal rubbed the stubble on his chin. He could really use a shave, he thought to himself. Hmmmmm . . . where to begin?
"Well, you see, um . . . by the way, what is your name, sir?" He wasn't sure if the 'sir' was entirely justified. But he had found it never hurt to be polite, until one had good reason not to be.
"Galither is what they call me." the Gondorian replied.
"Well, Galither, it's like this. About eight months ago, my fiancee, or, at least, I thought she was my fiancee, but she wasn't really, married a very wealthy merchant of Minas Tirith." Dengal paused for a moment as the image of 'Zilla's face rose up unbidden before his eyes. A dreamy look suffused his face.
Galither seemed perplexed and after a long moment of silence, he asked, tentatively, "So . . . that's why you're wearing those fancy things - because your girl dumped you?" The other two remaining at the table could not suppress their sniggers of derision, although Galither scowled at them.
"No, no!" Denegal hastened to reply. "It's not like THAT! I mean, well, that was the start of it all, of everything . . .you see?"
Galither was beginning to look as if he seriously regretted having asked Denegal to sit down. Denegal could tell he was making a complete hash of the story. It was just so hard to tell it in a way that made any sense.
He turned to look at Galither and asked "Have you ever been in love?"
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