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“What do you mean?” he said. “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?”
The river rushed up in steam and a fog fell on Dale, and in the fog the dragon came on them and destroyed most of the warriors—the usual unhappy story, it was only too common in those days.
“That leaves you just ten minutes. You will have to run,” said Gandalf. “But—,” said Bilbo. “No time for it,” said the wizard. “But—,” said Bilbo again. “No time for that either! Off you go!”
“So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending!” said Bilbo,
