Mejis may be at the end of the world . The cold in this place eats into the bones. only this door was in his mind. Mostly it seemed exotic, after the pokey all-days-the-same world of Hambry, where someone’s dry well was good for three days of animated conversation.
He felt he would have sold his soul for a look at New York; hell, he would have sold it for one deep lung-filling breath of Forty-second Street at rush hour. “Hello, there, you Little Coffin Hunters!” he cried cheerfully, and made a bow which was an amusingly good imitation of their own. “Cordelia Delgado,” Mayor Thorin said, next bowing to the woman who had been speaking to Jonas. He held two of the wires apart so she could slip between them, and she did the same for him.
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