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Then says Squire Wormtongue, Now, my pretty saucebox,
(snatching up my hand), what d'ye say to _that_?
Thinks I, what can I, what _shall_ I say? O my poor
papa, if only you were able to advise your poor, poor
Eowyn, instead of brainwashed by ringwraiths!
Squire Wormtongue, says I, indeed, I wish not you nor
any man harm...
Speak plainly, minx! So you wish not any man harm, do
you? But you say not that you wish no orc harm, nor
no wringwraith--ay, I know your chop-logic, Miss!
But indeed, Squire, when 'tis you who wish harm to my
Virtue--
Virtue be d----d! cries he, gritting his teeth--what
is left of them. And indeed, my dear Theodentine, is't
not strange what poor dental hygiene these fellows have?
I have but late seen better teeth on Master Gimli, who
opens bottles (and occasionally porticullises) with
his teeth), and who belike flosses no more often than
he shaves!
But I hear strange slithering noises in my Closet, and
so must leave off...
Your most Unhappy
Eowyn