[There are times Carlisle regrets telling Miriam his change of address. He can tell before he opens the door, hearing muffled squealing beyond it, that this might be one of those days.
But he does open the door for her, stepping aside to let her in despite his reservations. He looks as though the recent events have been a little rough on him: the bags under his eyes are darker, his tabard is missing, his hair isn't as perfectly in-place as he'd normally like; however, he is up and he doesn't completely reek of alcohol, so he considers that a minor victory.
He might be glad he left his tabard off this day as he eyes the yowling box, his gaze darting to Barnaby as though the dog might protect him.]
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But he does open the door for her, stepping aside to let her in despite his reservations. He looks as though the recent events have been a little rough on him: the bags under his eyes are darker, his tabard is missing, his hair isn't as perfectly in-place as he'd normally like; however, he is up and he doesn't completely reek of alcohol, so he considers that a minor victory.
He might be glad he left his tabard off this day as he eyes the yowling box, his gaze darting to Barnaby as though the dog might protect him.]
You got me a box. A box that yells.