'I am your lover already: for I love you.'
'What, girl?'
'Do I not love you, who are mine?'
'Come, come, don't be a little maniac!' I went. 'Clodagh was a poisoner....'
'Why did she poison? Had she not enough dates and wine?'
'She had, yes: but she wanted more, more, more, the silly idiot.'
'So that the vices and climes were not confined to those that lacked things, but were done by the others, too?'
'By the others chiefly.'
'Then I see how it was!'
'How was it?'