"Flung it out to the cannibals. The entrails too, and the head. They were delighted."
"Puh! What's this part I'm eating now and enjoying so?"
"Have you swallowed it, Mr. Cory?"
"I have, and you needn't try to make me puke."
"A puppy. She was carrying young—six. I had one whole, when you was still in the fever."
"Ow-ooh!"
"Oh, ay, your ears'll turn furry any day now. I say, Ben, when we're dirty-rich and famous, let's keep a few wolves on hand—you know, so to have roasted pups for guests of distinction."
"Now you sound like yourself."
"Do I?... Ben, I—something happened that night, Friday night."
"What do you mean?"