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’
Did
you
hear
what
I
said
,
boy
?
’
Mort
nodded
.
And
then
it
’
ll
be
fourteen
more
barrows
,
only
call
it
fifteen
because
I
haven
’
t
swept
up
properly
in
the
corner
,
and
.
.
.
.
’
Have
you
lost
your
tongue
?
’
’
Mort
,
’
said
Mort
mildly
.
She
looked
at
him
furiously
.
’
What
?
’
’
My
name
is
Mort
,
’
said
Mort
.
’
Or
Mortimer
.
Most
people
call
me
Mort
.
Did
you
want
to
talk
to
me
about
something
?
’
She
was
speechless
for
a
moment
,
staring
from
his
face
to
the
shovel
and
back
again
.
’
Only
I
’
ve
been
told
to
get
on
with
this
,
’
said
Mort
.
She
exploded
.
’
Why
are
you
here
?
Why
did
Father
bring
you
here
?
’
