Why, there's six months' work before me, at least.

And to think that if it hadn't been for you, by now I should be in process of digestion by a lion, a stinking, mangy, sacred lion!" Next morning I was awakened by Higgs limping into my room in some weird sleeping-suit that he had contrived with the help of Quick.
"I say, old fellow," he said, "tell me some more about that girl, Walda Nagasta.

What a sweet face she's got, and what pluck! Of course, such things ain't in my line, never looked at a woman these twenty years past, hard enough to remember her next morning, but, by Jingo! the eyes of that one made me feel quite queer here," and he hit the sleeping-suit somewhere in the middle, "though perhaps it was only because she was such a contrast to the lions." "Ptolemy," I answered in a solemn voice, "let me tell you that she is more dangerous to meddle with than any lion, and what's more, if you don't want to further complicate matters with a flaming row, you had better keep to your old habits and leave her eyes alone.

I mean that Oliver is in love with her." "Of course he is.

I never expected anything else, but what's that got to do with it?
Why shouldn't I be in love with her too?
Though I admit," he added sadly, contemplating his rotund form, "the chances are in his favour, especially as he's got the start." "They are, Ptolemy, for she's in love with him," and I told him what we had seen in the Tomb of Kings.
First he roared with laughter, then on second thoughts grew exceedingly indignant.
"I call it scandalous of Oliver, compromising us all in this way--the lucky dog! These selfish, amorous adventures will let us in for no end of trouble.