They looked up. Someone with a face and apron that said 'barman' in seven hundred languages was standing over them, a wine jug in each hand.
No women in here, he went on.
Why not? said Nobby.
No women asking questions, neither.
Why not?
'cos it is written, that's why.
Where'm I supposed to go, then?
The barman shrugged. Who knows where women go?
Off you go, Beti, said the Patrician. And … listen for information!
Nobby grabbed the cup of wine from Colon and gulped it down.
I dunno, he moaned. I've only been a woman ten minutes and already I hate you male bastards.
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