“What makes you think I’d be that way inclined?” “I go on my hunch—sometimes I’m wrong. But frankly it’s not your ‘inclination’ that interests me, it’s your … well, perfection…” “I heard you and the lady, earlier, inside … about field glasses and all.” “Then you know!” “She don’t mind you sayin’ unspeakable things?” “Unspeakable to whom? Florence Nightingale? Trust me, the lady don’t mind, though that husband of hers might call for smelling salts. Truth be told, she’s rather fond of boys who like boys.”
