He looked at the mountain of a man crying in his kash and his mouth pursed with disapproval.

"Exthcuthe me, Mithe," he said consolingly to Amyitis who was trying not to let the stench of the little man overwhelm her. "I'm tho thorry. Now I know why the women of Methopotamia have thuch a hard time getting preggerth."

Amyitis looked at him with wide eyes, which might have been a symptom of her tummy's continued unease. "You do?" she said weakly.

"Of courthe, dear lady. How could a liththome lathth thuch ath yourthelf be interethted in thomeone like that?" He lowered his voice so that she alone could hear. "Are all of the men in Methopotamia... thithtieth?"