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’
Yes
.
Sorry
.
’
Mort
shuffled
anxiously
through
his
limited
repertoire
of
small
talk
,
and
gave
up
.
’
Never
mind
,
’
he
said
gallantly
.
’
At
least
you
can
use
tweezers
.
’
’
He
’
s
very
kind
,
’
said
Ysabell
,
ignoring
him
,
’
in
a
sort
of
absent
-
minded
way
.
’
’
He
’
s
not
exactly
your
real
father
,
is
he
?
’
’
My
parents
were
killed
crossing
the
Great
Nef
years
ago
.
There
was
a
storm
,
I
think
.
He
found
me
and
brought
me
here
.
I
don
’
t
know
why
he
did
it
.
’
’
Perhaps
he
felt
sorry
for
you
?
’
’
He
never
feels
anything
.
I
don
’
t
mean
that
nastily
,
you
understand
.
It
’
s
just
that
he
’
s
got
nothing
to
feel
with
,
no
whatd
’
youcallits
,
no
glands
.
He
probably
thought
sorry
for
me
.
’
She
turned
her
pale
round
face
towards
Mort
.
’
I
won
’
t
hear
a
word
against
him
.
He
tries
to
do
his
best
.
It
’
s
just
that
he
’
s
always
got
so
much
to
think
about
.
’
