“No, Rodrigues, I didn’t say that. But wouldn’t you want to offer food to a fellow pilot who was hungry?” “That poor bastard’s not hungry, he’s starving. If he eats in that state he’ll gorge like a ravenous wolf, then he’ll vomit it up as fast as a drunk-gluttoned whore. Now, we wouldn’t want one of us, even a heretic, to eat like an animal and vomit like an animal in front of Toranaga, would we, Father? Not in front of a piss-cutting sonofabitch—particularly one as clean-minded as a pox-mucked whore’s cleft!” “You must learn to control the filth of your tongue, my son,” Alvito said. “It will
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