110 Chapter 110

The birdsong, the breeze stirring Splendor's hair, even the continuous, slow, jolting of the cart barely penetrated her consciousness.

"When all's said and done, it beats old woman Hanney's. Beats sittin' in this wreck, now Gabe's gone and left us flat. Unless yer wants me going back ter stealing? I mean I could, I suppose."

As Topaz studied the rotting fence posts at the sides of the ditch, as if they were next for pocketing, Splendor fought to bite her tongue. Topaz had never stopped.

"Oih take it when you use that word wreck, yor meaning some other vehicle an' not Clitherow's fine lookin' trap." O'Taggart clicked his tongue.

"Long as I ain't meanin' yer bleedin', bloody trap, what does it bleedin' matter?"

Splendor smothered a shriek as O'Taggart brought the whip down on the nag's back as if he wished it were Topaz's. The jolt sent them both flying upward, then down onto the wooden plank, straddling the cart.