8
" Tom had automatically picked up the oily rag that lived on the corner of Grey’s desk and, with a dexterous flick, snapped a fat fly out of the air and into oblivion. “Dead whale garnished with mint? That should cause my blood to be especially attractive to the more discriminating biting insects in Charles Town—to say nothing of Canada.” Jamaican flies were a nuisance but seldom carnivorous, and the sea breeze and muslin window screening kept most mosquitoes at bay. The swamps of coastal America, though…and the deep Canadian woods, his ultimate destination… “No,” Grey said reluctantly, scratching his neck at the mere thought of Canadian deer flies. “I can’t attend Mr. Mullryne’s celebration of his new plantation house basted in whale oil. Perhaps we can get bear grease in South Carolina. Meanwhile…sweet oil, perhaps? "
― Diana Gabaldon , Seven Stones to Stand or Fall (Outlander 0.5, 7.5 & 8.5)
18
" He stirred, though, at the sounds of the garden gate opening and low voices. “Tom?” he came out from under his sheltering quince, to find both Tom and Rodrigo—both of whom were amazingly, if flatteringly, delighted to see him. “We thought you was done for, sure, me lord,” Tom said for the third or fourth time, following Grey into the kitchen. “You sure you’re all right, are you?” The tone of accusing doubt in this question was so familiar that Grey felt tears come to his eyes. He blinked them away, though, assured Tom that he was somewhat banged about but essentially undamaged. “Gracias a Dios,” Rodrigo said, with such heartfelt sincerity that Grey looked at him in surprise. He said something else in Spanish that Grey didn’t understand; John shook his head, then stopped abruptly, wincing. "
― Diana Gabaldon , Seven Stones to Stand or Fall (Outlander 0.5, 7.5 & 8.5)
