—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.”