At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. With something near to horror they found themselves thus confronted. So he goes out with girls from his group instead of me. She could not explain in words why they disappointed her or that she was disappointed. No pistols, no daggers today?’ ‘Would you have me show a pistol with so many soldiers? I am not a fool. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. The nuns, they were very good with a whip. I'm nearly nabbing you.
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