Of the Bishop’s Quandary
I could not have helped it; his face and the words set me off once more; and dropping my blade I put my knuckles in my hips and shouted with laughter.
The Bishop waited, and when at length I came to a pause he looked at me with interrogation. “I suppose,” says he, “that I shall not now have even my own half of the booty?”
“Take it,” I shouted, bursting out afresh, “take it all, and go in God’s name, or whoever be your master. I would not rid the establishment of such a pillar—no, not for salvation from the Pit.”
And, flinging the bags at his apron, I mounted Calypso and rode off, laughing still.
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