“I don't believe this. How can he not want to go to the Savoy? God, it's all right for top businessmen, isn't it? Free champagne, yawn, yawn. Goody bags, yet another party, yawn, how tedious and dull.”

“And what?" Arranulf yawned."How did it go?""How did what go?""Don't play with my feet, as we say in Ramaldah. You were seen, Landemere.”

“. . . God made white people boring,then yawned and they all turned to stone.”

“One would expect boredom to be a great yawning emotion, but it isn't, of course. It's a small niggling thing.”

“She tried to insult me in front of the whole party. So what could I do but yawn and walk away?”

“I want pancakes.”“What? Right now?”“No. For breakfast.”“Oh.” He yawned. “You’d better get up early then.”“Me? I’m not going to make them.”“Yeah?” His sleepy voice carried mock sympathy. “Who’s going to make them for you then?”“You are.”“Am I? You think I’m going to make you pancakes? Is that how you think it’s going to be?""You’re so good at,” I whined. “Besides, if you do, I’ll sit on the counter in a short robe while you cook.” His soft laughter segued into another yawn. “Oh. Well then.” He kissed my ear again. “Maybe I’ll make you pancakes.”