In the swales of his lap he carried a tote-box full of crayons and a stirring-stick for stirring paint thicker than whey and marrow. He bartered and hawked, cajoled and argued, and made a fool of haggling and trade. ‘Who says a man can’t make a nickel from a Hogwarts ear, at a dime a dozen the trade is fair to haggling, and even were it not, the boasts a bogies well worth the bother.’ Imprecations felt sworn ort not, the dimes a nickel in trade, so off with his head and a wee bit off the side for God’s measure dais-ort.
