“You swear what?” He swallowed hard but said nothing. “Do not become reticent. Speak your thoughts.” “I cannot.” “Why not?” “Because my thoughts are beastly,” he replied, finally looking at me. “And I fear you are not afraid of beasts.” “Is that not a good thing?” I whispered. “To not be afraid.” “No, for it makes the beasts even more hungry,” he whispered back. “It takes them to the point of starvation until they can no longer remain gentlemanly and find themselves in the shrubbery.”
