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Dory felt like a wet blanket. She’d overdosed on colours in the shawl and cape shop, and had to lie down in the back room. As she waited for the room to stop spinning, sprawled on a rather smelly old sofa that seemed more like a glukenitch bed than a sofa, she listened to various snatches of conversations through the thin walls.

Dory was lost. She got sidetracked on the way to the cave, darting into a shop that had shawls and capes in deep pastel shades displayed in the window.