“It’s certainly a step up from your last place Seb,” I said as I climbed my way to his front door.
“Indeed it is old fellow,” he said, my pun having fallen on deaf ears. “You can leave your shoes here in the vestibule”. He pointed to a worn rubber mat in the porch. “Let me give you a grande tournée of Manoir de Sebastian”.
He flung open a door. “The parlour”, he announced, “or living room to you”.
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