“Do you think you could—well, give me a sort of sitrep on all this?”

“Oh, Geoffrey. Oh, my.” Here comes Sammy Hilbert-Spaess back from watching the shower-room frolic, shaking his head, pouched and Levantine eyes continuing to stare straight down his nose, “Geoffrey, by the time you get any summary, the whole thing will have changed. We could shorten them for you as much as you like, but you’d be losing so much resolution it wouldn’t be worth it, really it wouldn’t. Just look around you, Geoffrey. Have a nice look, and see who’s here.”

Pirate is surprised to find Sir Stephen Dodson-Truck more fit than he ever looked in his life. The man is actively at peace, in the way of a good samurai—each time he engages Them fully expecting to die, without apprehension or remorse. It is an amazing change. Pirate begins to feel hope for himself. “When did you turn?” He knows Sir Stephen won’t be offended at his asking. “How did it happen?”

“Oh, no, don’t let this one fool you?” who in the world is this, with this greasy pompadour combed nearly as high again as his face, through which shows the peened, the tenderized soul of a fighter who’s not only taken dives, but also thought heavily about them all the way down. It is Jeremiah (“Merciful”) Evans, the well-known political informer from Pembroke. “No, our little Stevie’s not ready for sainthood quite yet, are we my fine chap?” Slapping him, playful, clubbing slaps on the cheek: “Eh? eh? eh?”

“Not if they’ve thrown me in wiv v’ likes o’ you,” replies the knight, churlishly. But it’s hard to say really who’s provoking whom, for Merciful Evans now bursts into song, and a terrible singer he is, a discredit to his people, in fact—

Say a prayer for the common informer,

He came out of a quim, just like yoooou—

Yes be kind what you chortle,

For narks are as mortal

As any, Kilkenny to Kew…

And the next time you sigh in your comfort,

Ask yourself how he’s doing, today—

Is it worse being sold,

For those handfuls of gold,

Than to sigh all your real-life, away?

“I don’t know that I’m going to like it in here,” Pirate, an unpleasant suspicion growing on him, looking about nervously.