Oy, with the Poodles already!
"Who is this?" came the voice over the phone. Marguerite trembled, thinking it was Percy. Roger would never speak so doubtfully. Certainty was his leading quality! When the voice paused there could be millennia passing by through wormholes - or suffering so acute hearing, it could cut like a bandsaw through consciousness. So she answered tentatively, "Percy? Are you in France? " as Nathan groaned, impatient beneath her bed, wanting out. Percy made muffled barking noises, Roger doubted Marguerite's sanity, and Nathan was free.
