The Poems of Madam Albithurst: A Dead Passenger
The rest of the evening passed without notable event. Sir Juhrooz was, in fact, a rather dull dinner companion, of a kind with Mr. Porist. He ate very little, and spent most of his conversation speaking most shamefully about various bloody battles and bristling confrontations with any number of villainous and bestial foes. It might have indeed been a most interesting and delightful conversation, had I not heard similar from half of all the soldiers I had ever met.