His fingers itched for the string in his pocket. Two or three knots was all it would take to tidy the place up, but obviously, that was out of the question. He could at least sharpen the knives though. When nobody was looking, he quickly pulled out the string, and then, while concentrating on the knives in the drawer behind him, he tied a knot and muttered, “Infini acuti.” There. Those knives would never be dull again.
PRETTY SURE THEY WILL NOTICE THAT
