"And in what way is that relevant?" asked Roxy Davidova, taking a few days respite after her Scottish Unionist Party notched up 12 gains in the General Election, "not that I want to seem to repugn your argument, Maude dear, but I'm uncertain as to what part the little Jewish Tailor had to play in the murder – or Justifiable Homicide in some cultures, of Sir Palimpsest," and it was Peter Boo who tried to calm things down: "it may be a matter of culture indeed, or custom, as to whether a cash-back system is regarded as lagniappe or bribery; maybe the difference is whether a corner shop apple-polishes it's customers with a Baker's Dozen, or a Clearing Bank puts a million squid in the palm of the Chairman who is handing the bank a serious contract!" and Maude crossed her arms and uncrossed them and said: "it was the telegram from Trotsky that was the catalyst, Roxy; now we all know how bilious Uncle Joe could become, but at this time it wasn't so obvious, the paranoia hadn't set in – yes, he had learned in his years on the run to look over his shoulder, to trust very few, to be ruthless when he felt that to be necessary, exactly the kind of behaviour Carlos displayed at a similar point in his career," and Lolly, who had been trying very hard to follow the story which was unfolding, but felt herself floundering – the Scottish tongue she had picked up in the 13th Century Borderlands and Edinburgh was limiting her understanding in 21st Century Darnick – raised her hand tentatively and asked Maude: "whae is this Carlos loon, soonds like a richt numpty tae me," and Wullie echoed her, "an me tae," at which she scowled and muttered at him from the side of her mouth: "goanie no say that!" and flushing with embarrassment, he replied: "hoo no fur?" and she fairly spat the words at hem: "Jist! – Goanie! – No!" and flung herself back into her chair and glowered at the boy.