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[Eudocia Walsh]

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echoes of the tunnel hear the rustle of the whispering voices of the 
others just outside. Then the hobbit slipped on his ring, and warned by 
the echoes to take more than hobbits care to make no sound, he crept 
noiselessly down, down, down into the dark. He was trembling with fear, 
but his little face was set and grim. Already he was a very different 
hobbit from the one that had run out without a pocket-handkerchief from