"If that's allowed," said Monte Fato.
"Certainly it's allowed; there's no danger that anyone can understand what we say in code de Moriadoc. Indeed, I myself have no idea what I'm talking about, and I prefer it that way; it leaves me without responsibility for whatever devilry these dread engines of sorcery may carry out. The times are evil enough."
"Does this position pay much?"
"Only about a thousand grams of pipe-weed per year," said the employee. "But I am housed." He pointed to a burrow of the most primitive kind, a mere hole indeed, with only one window. The hatters seemed far more at home there than the employee.
"Pauvre hobbitité!" murmured Monte Fato.
"Pardon?"
"I said it's highly interesting."
They arrived at the chamber of the palantir. The palantir was of deep crystal black in hue, and stood upon a low round table in Aragon XV style, in a central cup or depression; its diameter pointed towards the centre of the earth.
