She'll sell you, and get Kara to put the knife between your ribs." "Why should he?
I'm not in love with the girl." "The tree don't care for the ivy, but the ivy loves the tree," said Mother Cockleshell darkly.

"You're a good and kind gentleman, and I don't want to see that slut pick your bones." "So I think," whispered Miss Greeby in his ear.

"You play with fire." "Aye, my good lady," said Mother Cockleshell, catching the whisper--she had the hearing of a cat.

"With the fire of Bongo Tern, the which you may call The Crooked Land," and she pointed significantly downward.
"Hell, do you mean ?" asked Miss Greeby in her bluff way.
"The Crooked Land we Romany calls it," insisted the old woman.

"And the child will go there, for her witchly doings." "She's too good-looking to lose as a model, at all events," said Lambert, hitching his shoulders.