Brigid sat blinking in her bed, her book suddenly forgotten, then was suddenly up on her feet and heading out into the living room. Greg was sitting at the table, typing away furiously on some piece of writing, casually belting out "What Shall We Do With the Drunken Sailor?" in Latin.
"Euge! Et spumat salum! Euge! Et spumat salum! Euge! Et spumat salum! Hora mutatina!"
She couldn't help herself; she suddenly broke into riotous laughter.
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