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Updated: June 16, 2025
They were too polite to hiss. But it wasn't necessary. I was hissing myself. Inside of me there was a long, nasty hiss-ss-ss! I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear to be a failure with Latimer listening, though out there in that queer half-light I couldn't see him at all, but could only make out the couch where I knew he must be lying. I just jumped into something else to retrieve myself.
They thought I could, too, those black and white shadows out there on the other side of the velvet curtains. But I cared less for what they thought than for the fact that I had drowned that sputtering hiss-ss-ss inside of me, and that Latimer was among them. I gave them Warfield, then; I was always good at taking off the sheenies in the alley behind the Cruelty remember?
"Oh, will she die?" asked Gwendolyn, anxiously. The Doctor knelt to grasp Jane's wrist. "No," he answered gravely; "she'll only have to go back to the Employment Agency." "I won't!" cried Jane. "I won't! Miss Royle!" "Hiss-ss-ss!" "Get you-know-what out of the way! A certain person musn't talk to it! If she does she'll find " "I understand!" hissed back the snake. You-know-what?
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