no conversation is possible when every Lord and his blessed cat has an opinion on everything.
BUT I’M HOME, THERE’S NO DOUBT ABOUT IT, EXCEPT if I were to want a strawberry, or loosen Alice’s shoetongue, old Herrick in his grave and Ulysse Lebris would both yell at me to leave things alone, and that’s when I raw my wide pony and roll.
Well, Ulysse then turns to me bashfully and just looks into my eyes briefly, and then away, because he knows no conversation is possible when every Lord and his blessed cat has an opinion on everything.
