““These boots are worth more than you, damn it!' Shadikshirram was sitting on her bed, eyes shining wet, straining forward and trying to grab her foot but so drunk she kept missing. When she saw him she sagged back. 'Give me a hand, eh?' 'As long as you don't need two,' said Yarvi. She gurgled with laughter. 'You're a clever little crippled bastard, aren't you? I swear the gods sent you. Sent you . . . to get my boots off.””
