“Yes, listen to her,” said Ripipin. “... Love.”
Turning toward her, Dravidian said, “Chantilly, understand it is not I who breaches etiquette, but my misinformed brothers ...”
Pepperlung took a step toward him. “Being a sycophant does not become you, Dravid. Please ... come with us now. The girl will wait.”
Reseating himself, Dravidian said to Chantilly, “I believe we were discussing empathy before my fellow ghouls crashed our study ...”
Pepperlung sneered. “Empathy ...” He moved to take his leave of them but paused. “It is too late, Ripipin. Our dear Dravidian here has succumbed to the Madness. He has spent too much time in the words of the madmen who writ their misguided philosophies while in drunken stupors, or bedeviled by opiates—men who like carnie geeks slumped over their pathet
