"I'll bet she would at that," Cecil said.
"Those poor defenseless butterflies," Gerald nodded. "I shudder."
"And well you should shudder," Toffee put in.
Together the brothers turned to her with undisguised admiration.
"You're really mean," Cecil said. "Have you ever thought of being a spy?"
"Have you ever thought of being a dead spy?" Toffee said waspishly. "Now stop that nonsense and help me get him down. Find something to weight him down with."
Marc, already beginning to crouch to keep his head away from the ceiling of the car, looked down imploringly. "Just get me something to eat," he pleaded. "I'll be all right if you'll only feed me."
"You see," Gerald Blemish said. "He's just being stubborn. This is all just a childish trick to get us to feed him." He raised his gun again in Marc's direction.
"Don't be silly," Toffee said. She explained to the Blemishes that food reacted chemically to temporarily relieve Marc's condition of buoyancy. "Just help me get him down, and we can get him something to eat in the hotel dining room."