The charioteer seemed surprised at the question.
"Yon's the muneecipal linx," he replied.
"The what?"
"The muneecipal linx."
"Tell me, fellow, why do you talk that way?"
"Whitway?"
"Why, like that. The way you're talking."
"Hoots, mon!" said the charioteer. "His Majesty King Merolchazzar—may his handicap decrease!—hae passit a law that a' his soobjects shall do it. Aiblins, 'tis the language spoken by The Pro, on whom be peace! Mphm!"
Ascobaruch sat back limply, his head swimming. The chariot drove on, till now it took the road adjoining the royal Linx. A wall lined a portion of this road, and suddenly, from behind this wall, there rent the air a great shout of laughter.
"Pull up!" cried Ascobaruch to the charioteer.