[A person would think that a man who spends as much time immersed in language as Ortus does would have an appreciation for wordplay, and they would be right to think it. The cleverness of the remark is not lost on him, nor the subtle joke of the inflections - but it is the source of it that cows him.]

I would venture so, Holy Finger.

[He has discovered a fascinating grey rock close by the Saint's feet, upon which he considers stumbling headfirst in pursuit of blessed unconsciousness.]

I have found it of meager use for this purpose. Is there some manner in which I may serve you, Saint Patience?

[He rather blasphemously hopes there is not. He would prefer, in this instance, to a thing toyed with, and not a thing of use.]