Tuesday, 6 November 2012

Except by the lion

      During this sisterly exchange I’d been ignored except by the lion, which had ambled up to rub his great head against my ribs — until Masteeat clicked her tongue, at which he trotted out obediently. Meanwhile she continued to pet her “pretty antelope”, the murderous virago who’d tried to dethrone her and was being coddled like a prodigal daughter . . . no, I can’t fathom women.

Flashman on the March, p.154, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.

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