Italy is in Europe. --Same difference to me, I'm sure. We're all of us rather peckish, it turns out. For the next few minutes, we do nothing but eat, verily brooding over our viscous pasties, worrying them down like beggars. Philomela, not surprisingly, is soonest done, and as she waits for us to catch up, she undergoes a subtle alchemical change. The girl by the Hungerford Pier reemerges, in all her withering independence. Folding her mouth downward, she jabs me in the lapel. --Trade. Even with his mouth full, Colin is ready with an answer: --Rooster. In a henhouse. On the whole, "rooster" strikes me as a rather flattering term for it. --What sort name Teem-thee? --Well, that's my Christian name. My surname is Cratchit. --Kra-shit. --Mm. Perhaps we should stay with Christian names for now.
What do You think about Mr. Timothy: A Novel (2014)?
