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Updated: June 10, 2025
"For, lo! the hosts of Yolara have been beaten back; and on the bridge comes Nak with tidings." We looked over the parapet. It was even as she had said. Neither on ledge nor bridge was there trace of living men of Muria only heaps of slain that lay everywhere and thick against the cavern mouth still danced the flashing atoms of those the green ray had destroyed.
"My grandmother's name was Emma." Jennifer was smiling again. "Sure," Oliver said, "I like it. What if it's a boy?" "I don't know," she said. "My father's name is Gene." "How about Frisco?" "Frisco? But that's a place, not a person . . ." "Nakano. Nakano Prescott, now there's a name." "I don't know." Jennifer's hands went protectively to her belly. "Nak? Naky?" Oliver raised his voice.
And in the meantime we shall have disposed my Akka to meet Yolara's men. And on that disposal we must all take counsel, you, Larry, and Rador, Olaf and Goodwin and Nak, the ruler of the Akka." "Did the messenger give any idea when Yolara expects to make her little call?" asked Larry. "Yes," she answered.
And here I would remark, by the way, that I have seldom spoken to a Gipsy in England who did not try me on the word for kettle. "And what do you call a face?" he added. "I call a face a mui," I said, "and a nose a nak; and as for mui, I call rikker tiro mui, 'hold your jaw. That is German Rommany."
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