Barnaby heard himself objecting to the price of grain.
He had never objected to the price of grain in those terms.
The woman on the street corner lifted her chin, paused for exactly the wrong amount of time, and announced in his voice that barley had failed to obtain the proper permission to become expensive.
The crowd laughed.
Felix laughed too, until he looked at Barnaby.
“The cadence,” Barnaby said, “is regrettably good.”
The performer bowed to him.
“Lark Finch. Thank you.”
