Barrow Fields do you believe there is loyalty in a man?

She was permissive of a few lashes from his tongue on her chops to clean off the ropy yolks of quail ovum, then dodged him with a lift of her chin, clearing out of the way of the lousy-in-love bath he drew for her.

I missed you, he said, and her eyes were the bowstrings that shot him a look of consternation like an arrow true to its mark. His pygmy goat-like back wriggling made it hard for her to keep track of his expression, so she could not be sure if he was bantering or if his statement was said in earnest. So she took her paw and tried to pin him in place, eyebrows furrowing as she stared down the swart barrel of his snout. "And why did you do that?" Miss me. Why did you miss me. Why would you subject yourself to such an action?