He sat on the cloister-room steps, staring into the leafy baroque distance. His head hung low; his shoulders were slumped. Even the multicoloured coat looked dimmer than usual.
Peri knelt beside him, moving the remains of his teatime snack out of the way. He was such an enigma: sometimes exuberant, sometimes bowed under the weight of the universe. "What's the matter, Doctor? You look like you've just lost a friend."
The Doctor's sorrowful eyes met hers. He gestured to the empty plate. "There's nothing sadder," he said, "than the ghost of a good crumpet.... Ow! What was that for?"
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