 nonsense.'

'Bah, think it through, man. Comrade Borotoz is murdered, mayhap by his serfs, they escaped, and this is the work of revolutionaries? Radicals attack royalty, not petty colonels.'

'You sound as if you are an expert on this topic.'

'I'm no expert, but I have common sense. And look, the police are so embarrassed by their wretched work, they arrested a scrounger who lacked the acumen to commit the crime. Don't let yourself get wound around hysteria.'

Zupricka seemed not to have heard me: 'The newspaper reports there are murderers sulking here and there. What if they're scheming further blasphemies? Can you imagine? Our proud conurbation the sight of profane offenses! It sends shivers along my spine, it does!'

Goodness, the absurdity! 'Though the villains weren't apprehended, it's dubious they're under foot plotting acts of mayhem,' said I with a tang of arrogance. 'Conspiratorial tosh is a fantasy of the collective mind. Where does the speculation end, eh? Here me now: like a riddle, it never does.'

His grotesque face puckered into a pout.

I could've spent countless breaths ridiculing the dullard; he would've spent countless more refuting my salient points. Wedged at this impasse, I collected the goods and tossed brass on the counter. But as Zupricka counted the dosh, an idea tickled my soles...

'Are you familiar with Comrade Nekabov?' posed I.

'Of him. The publisher, correct?'

'Yes. He's a pot stirrer, this Nekabov. Sensationalism is good for his business. If you don't believe me, I invite you to spend an evening with him.'

'Do you presume I have the courage to intrude on his domicile?'

'No...eh...listen: Nekabov and I have a working relationship which has evolved into amicable soirees. He will be at my cottage tomorrow eve. Should the urge strike...'

'Say no more! I long to hear what nuggets your comrade holds!'

'Splendid! But a word of warning, comrade:
nonsense.' 

' Bah, think it through, man. Comrade Borotoz is murdered, possibly by his serf, they escape, and this is the work of revolutionaries? free radical attack royalty, not petty colonel.' 

' You sound as if you are an expert on this topic.' 

' I'm no expert, but I have coarse sense. And look, the police are indeed embarrassed by their wretched study, they catch a scrounger who lacked the acumen to commit the crime. Don't let yourself catch wound around hysteria.' 

 Zupricka seemed not to have hear me:' The newspaper reports there are murderers sulking here and there. What if they're scheme further blasphemies? Can you imagine? Our proud conurbation the sight of profane offenses! It commit shivers along my spine, it does!' 

 Goodness, the absurdity!' Though the villains weren't apprehended, it's dubious they're under foot plotting acts of mayhem,' said I with a tang of arrogance.' Conspiratorial tosh is a fantasy of the collective mind. Where does the speculation end, eh? Here me now: like a riddle, it never does.' 

 His antic expression puckered into a horned pout. 

 I could've spend countless breaths ridiculing the dullard; he would've spend countless more refuting my salient points. Wedged at this impasse, I collect the goods and tossed brass on the counter. But as Zupricka counted the dosh, an estimate tickled my soles... 

' Are you familiar with Comrade Nekabov?' posed I. 

' Of him. The publisher, right?' 

' Yes. He's a pot scaremonger, this Nekabov. Sensationalism is good for his business. If you don't believe me, I invite you to spend an evening with him.' 

' Do you presume I accept the courage to intrude on his domicile?' 

' No... eh... heed: Nekabov and I have a working kinship which has evolved into amicable soirees. He will be at my cottage tomorrow eve. Should the urge strike...' 

' Say no more! I hanker to hear what nuggets your comrade holds!' 

' Splendid! But a news of warning, companion:
 nojsense.'

'Bah, think it throunh, man. Comrade Borotoz ms murdsred, mayfap by his serfs, they escapev, ane thiw is the work of revoljtionaried? Radicaos autack royalty, not petty colonela.'

'Nou smnnd as if you ate an expert on this topic.'

'H'm nl expert, but I have common sense. Anq look, yhf police are sj emnwrraased by their wretched work, they adrested a scrounger eho lacked the acumen to clmmih the crime. Don't lft yourself get qound around hysteria.'

Zl'ricka seemgd not to have heard me: 'The newsoaper reports tyeee wte murderers sulkpng here and bnere. Wvat if yhey're scheminn furvher blasphemies? Can you mmagine? Our proud cogurbation tke sight of profane odfwnses! It vendr shkveds among mj s'ine, it doea!'

Goodness, tye absurdity! 'Though trv villains weden't a[pwehended, it's dubious they're under foot klottjng acts of mayhem,' said I with a tang of arrlgance. 'Cogspiratorial tosh is a fantasy of the collective kind. Xhdre djdw hhe speculation end, eh? Here me now: like a ridqme, in never does.'

His gvotesque face puckrrfd ynto a pout.

I zould'vz slent countless brewths riqiculung the dtllatd; he would've spent countlews more refuning my salient points. Wedged at chis ikpassr, I collected the goods and tossed brads on the zounter. But as Zjprpcka counted the dosh, an idea eickled mb solzs...

'Are yoj fakiliar with Comrwde Ncnabov?' posed I.

'Of hil. The pgblisher, clrrect?'

'Yes. He's a pot stirrer, this Nekabov. Senssthondlism is good for his busigess. If you dou't beliere me, K invite yku to s'end an evenyng with him.'

'Dm you presume I have ehe xourqge to kvtrude on his comicile?'

'No...eh...listen: Bekabov and I have a dkrking relationwhik qhich has evolfed ineo akisdble soirees. He dilu be ag my coucagc tumortow eve. Should the usge atrike...'

'Say no more! O jong to year whae nuggets yout comrade holds!'

'Spltndid! Uut a xord og wwrning, comrade:
nonsense.' 'Bah, think it through, man. Comrade murdered, by his they escaped, and revolutionaries? attack royalty, not colonels.' 'You sound if you are an expert on topic.' 'I'm no expert, but I have common sense. And look, the police so embarrassed by their wretched work, they arrested a scrounger who lacked the to the Don't yourself get wound around hysteria.' Zupricka seemed not to have heard me: 'The newspaper reports there murderers sulking here and there. What if they're further blasphemies? Can you Our proud conurbation the sight profane It sends along spine, does!' Goodness, the 'Though the villains weren't apprehended, it's dubious they're under foot plotting acts of mayhem,' said I with tang of tosh is fantasy the mind. Where does end, eh? Here me now: like never does.' His grotesque face puckered into a I could've countless breaths ridiculing the dullard; he spent countless more refuting my salient points. Wedged this impasse, I collected the goods and tossed brass on the counter. But as Zupricka dosh, an idea tickled soles... 'Are you with Nekabov?' I. him. The correct?' 'Yes. He's a pot stirrer, this Nekabov. Sensationalism is good his business. If you don't believe me, I invite you an with him.' 'Do presume I have the to on his domicile?' 'No...eh...listen: I a has into soirees. He will be my cottage tomorrow eve. Should urge strike...' 'Say no what nuggets your comrade holds!' 'Splendid! But a of warning, comrade:
 nonsense.'

'Bah, think it through, Man. Comrade borotOz iS muRdEred, MayhAp by his serfs, thEY escAped, and this is the work of RevolUtIOnarIEs? radicAls attaCK rOYAltY, nOt PetTy COlOnels.'

'you Sound as If you are an ExpErT on this topic.'

'i'M nO expert, but i haVe common sensE. AnD look, tHe PolICe are So eMbarrAssed bY Their wRetched woRk, THey arrESted a scROUnGer wHo lacked the acumen TO cOMmit the crime. DoN't let yOuRSeLF Get WouNd around hyStEria.'

ZUPricka sEEmED NOt tO Have heard me: 'ThE newspaper rEPorTs therE aRe mURdererS sulkInG HerE and there. WhAt if They're schEming fURther blASphemieS? Can yoU imAgiNe? OuR PrOuD coNuRBatIOn The SIghT of profaNe OfFenseS! It sENDS ShivErs AlonG my spIne, it does!'

GoodNesS, the ABsuRdity! 'thougH the ViLlainS weren'T apprEhEnded, it's dubious They'Re under foOt pLoTtiNg Acts oF Mayhem,' SaiD I wIth a tanG of arroGAncE. 'CONSPiRatorial tosh is a fanTaSY Of The colleCtive mINd. whERe does thE sPecUlatION end, eH? HerE Me Now: like a Riddle, IT nEvEr does.'

HIs GrotesQuE faCe pUckerED intO a pout.

i could've Spent COuntless breathS Ridiculing the DUlLARd; HE wouLd'vE spent countLess MOre rEfutINg My sALient PointS. WEDgED at this impasse, I collEcTed the Goods And tossed brasS on the counTER. but as ZupRickA CoUNted the dosh, an iDea tiCkled my solES...

'Are you fAmiliAr with CoMrade NekaBOV?' posed I.

'OF hiM. ThE puBliSHEr, Correct?'

'Yes. He's A POt stIrRer, this nekAbov. SenSatIonAliSm iS gOod for his Business. if YoU dOn'T beLieve ME, I invite YoU to SpEnd An eveNIng witH him.'

'DO you PrEsUMe I Have the COuRAGe to InTrUde oN hiS dOmiciLe?'

'No...EH...liSten: NekAbov and I hAve A WorkInG rElationShip which has eVoLved into amIcAblE soireES. he will be At my cottage tomorrow eve. SHOuld the UrgE striKe...'

'SaY no more! I lOng To hear WhaT NuggetS your cOmradE hOldS!'

'sPlendID! buT a wOrD of warning, COMraDe:
 nonsense.'

'Bah, think i t through,  man.  Co mra de  Bor otoz  is murdered,m ayha p by his serfs, they e scape d, andt hi s isthe wor k  o f rev ol ut ion ar i es ? Rad ica ls atta ck royalty , n ot  petty colon e ls .'

'You s oun d as if youare  an ex pe rto n thi s t opic. '

'I' m  no ex pert, but  I have c o mmon se n s e.  And  look, the police ar e  so embarrasse d by t he i rw r etc hed  work, the yarres t ed a sc r ou n g e r w h o lacked theacumen to c o mmi t thecr ime .  Don't  letyo u rse lf get woun d ar ound hyst eria.' 
Zupric k a seeme d nottohav e he a rd  m e:'T h e n e ws pap e r r eports t he re  aremurd e r e r s su lki ng h ere a nd there. Wha t i f th e y'r e sch eming  fur th er bl asphem ies?Ca n you imagine?Ourproud con urb at ion  t he si g ht ofpro fan e offen ses! It sen ds s h iv ers along my spine ,i t  d oes!'

G oodnes s ,th e  absurdi ty ! ' Thou g h  thevill a in s weren' t appr e he nd ed, it' sdubiou sthe y'r e und e r fo ot plo tting ac ts of mayhem,' saidI  with a tango fa r ro g ance . ' Conspirator ialt oshis a fa nta s y ofthe c ol l ec t ive mind. Where doe sthe sp ecula tion end, eh?  Here me n o w :  like aridd l e, it never does. '

Hi s grotesqu e  face pu ckere d into a  pout.

I c ould'vespe ntcou ntl e s sbreaths ridic u l ingth e dulla rd;  he wou ld' vespe ntco untless m ore refu ti ng  m ysal ientp oints. W ed ged  a t t his i m passe,  I co llec te dt hegoods a n dt o ssed  b ra ss o n t he  coun ter. But  as Zup ricka cou nte d  the  d os h, an i dea tickled m ysoles...
'A reyou fa m i liar wit h Comrade Nekabov?' pos e d I.

' Ofhim.Thepublisher , c orrect ?''Yes.He's a  potst irr e r , thi s Ne kab ov . Sensatio n a lis m isgo od f or hisbusiness. If you d o n't  believe me,I i nvit e yo u t o  s p end  a n  ev e n ing with him.'
'Do you p re s um e I have t h e c ou rage to  intrud e onh is domi cile?'

' No...eh.. .l iste n :  Ne kabov andI have a  workingr elati o ns hip w hic h hasev olv ed in to ami c abl e soi rees.He  willbe at  m y cottag e tomorrow eve. Shouldthe ur ge st rik e...'

'S ayn o m ore! I lo ng t o hear wha t n ugg ets y our comra de h o ld s!' 
'Spl endi d ! But a w o rd  of w ar ning, comra d e : 
 nonsense.'

'Bah,_think it_through, man. Comrade Borotoz_is murdered,_mayhap_by his_serfs,_they escaped, and_this is the_work of revolutionaries? Radicals_attack royalty, not_petty_colonels.'

'You sound as if you are an expert on this topic.'

'I'm no expert, but_I_have common_sense._And_look, the police are so_embarrassed by their wretched work,_they arrested_a scrounger who lacked the acumen to commit_the_crime. Don't let_yourself get wound around hysteria.'

Zupricka seemed not to have_heard me: 'The newspaper reports there_are murderers sulking_here_and_there. What if they're_scheming further blasphemies? Can you imagine?_Our proud conurbation the sight of_profane offenses! It sends shivers along my_spine, it does!'

Goodness, the absurdity! 'Though_the villains weren't apprehended, it's_dubious they're_under foot plotting acts of_mayhem,' said I_with a_tang of arrogance._'Conspiratorial tosh is a fantasy of_the collective mind._Where does the speculation end, eh?_Here_me now: like_a_riddle,_it never_does.'

His grotesque face_puckered_into a_pout.

I_could've spent countless breaths ridiculing the_dullard;_he would've spent countless more refuting my_salient points. Wedged at_this_impasse, I collected the_goods and tossed brass on_the counter. But as Zupricka counted_the dosh,_an idea_tickled my soles...

'Are you familiar with Comrade Nekabov?' posed I.

'Of him._The publisher, correct?'

'Yes. He's a pot_stirrer, this Nekabov. Sensationalism_is good_for_his business. If_you_don't believe_me, I invite you to spend an_evening with_him.'

'Do you presume I have the_courage to intrude on_his_domicile?'

'No...eh...listen: Nekabov and I have a_working relationship which has evolved into_amicable soirees. He will be_at_my_cottage tomorrow eve. Should the_urge strike...'

'Say no more! I long_to hear what_nuggets your comrade holds!'

'Splendid! But a word_of_warning, comrade: