The effect of this speech was electrifying. The red-head gave a stifled moan and slid to the floor in a faint. Clancy backed away, his face like a flour bag, while everyone else in the room stopped making noises and clutched one another.
“And now do you believe my story about talking dogs and floating women?” I said to Clancy. “It’s all here for you to see.”
“I’ll believe anything,” Clancy said, shivering. “This is too much for me. You’ve all got to see the captain.”
Whisky peered into the red-heed’s face “Odd how these dames pass out, isn’t it?” he said and began to lick her face energetically.
I caught him a quick kick where it’d do him the most good. He gave a startled curse and removed his tail hurriedly.
“Leave her alone,” I said sternly. “Besides, all that make-up might poison you.”
“As a matter of fact,” Whisky said with a leer, “it was extraordinarily tasty. But apart from that, I was just trying to revive her.”
“She doesn’t need reviving,” I returned. “She’s happier the way she is.”
“Can’t you stop him?” Clancy pleaded, gaping at Whisky as if he was some monster. “I can’t stand any more of this.”
Myra swooped past me. “What do we do now?” she asked. “Shall I run away?”