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"And get my pipe out of my pack, if it isn't broken."
'Indeed, it is not broken, cousin, but as whole as the day it was made.' Unlike you, my poor Merry, with the Shadow still lingering in your eyes. I thought Strider said...
'Then fill it, and we shall have a good smoke together, just as...' Just as in the lost days, on a visit to Bag End, sitting on the doorstep. O Frodo, shall we ever see you again? Dear Frodo, walking into Shadow...
'I'll light it, Merry.'
He puffs, flame shoots up, his face is wreathed in smoke. Smoke and fire, is that how we all shall perish?
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