Joscelyn: What will you give me?
Martin: A yellow shoe-string.)
By six Gorgons (repeated Martin) who had the sharpest claws and the snakiest hair of any Gorgons there ever were. And their faces—
(Joscelyn: Leave their faces alone!
Martin: You're being a perfect nuisance!
Joscelyn: I simply HATE this story!
Martin: Tell it yourself then!
Joscelyn: What ABOUT their faces?)
Their faces (said Martin) were as beautiful as day and night and the four seasons of the year. They were so beautiful that I must stop talking about them or I shall never talk about anything else. So I'd better talk about the young Squire, who was a great deal less interesting, except for one thing: that he was in love. Which is a big advantage to have over Gorgons, who never are. The only other noteworthy thing about him was that his voice was breaking because he was merely fifteen years old. He was just a sort of Odd Boy about the King's court.
(Martin: Mistress Joscelyn, if you keep on wiggling so much you'll get a nasty tumble. Kindly sit still and let me get on. This isn't a very long story.)