“You can have some food as soon as we’re settled in, but we aren’t settling in here.”
“I tell you I can’t walk another yard,” she said haggardly. “Can’t you see I’m half dead?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to walk another three hundred yards or so.”
“What’s wrong with this place?”
He gestured with his tankard.
“We’re sleeping in the woods.”
She stared at him incredulously.
“I don’t understand you.”
“In the woods,” explained the Saint. “ Im wold. Dans les bois. Unter den Linden.”
“You must be crazy.”