—Greek! Hand it to me! Shaun replied, plosively pointing to
the cinnamon quistoquill behind his acoustrolobe. I’m as after-
dusk nobly Roman as pope and water could christen me. Look
at that for a ridingpin! I am, thing Sing Larynx, letter potent to
play the sem backwards like Oscan wild or in shunt Persse trans-
luding from the Otherman or off the Toptic or anything off the
types of my finklers in the draught or with buttles, with my oyes
thickshut and all.
“Que me la des,” dice Shaun (la carta, se supone). “Soy tan romano y católico como puede hacer el bautismo. Capaz de leer como Oscar Wilde, al revés. Con la punta de los dedos, y los ojos cerrados.”