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the word. Fifty-three times so far. Or fifty-four.'
Binky looked up as they approached and gave a short neigh of recognition when the abbot patted his nose. Mort mounted reincarnate. And just when I'm getting the hang of things, the lads come down from the temple looking for a boy conceived at the hour the old abbot died. Talk about unimaginative. Stop here a moment, please.'
Mort looked down.
'We're in mid-air,'he said doubtfully.
'I won't keep you a minute.' The abbot slid down from Binky's back, walked a few steps on thin air, up and helped the abbot up behind him.'It must be very interesting,' he said, as Binky climbed away from the temple. On the absolute scale of small talk this comment must rate minus quite a lot, but Mort couldn't think of anything better.'No, it mustn't,' said the abbot. 'You think it must be because you believe I can remember all my lives, but of course I can't. Not while I'm alive, anyway.''I hadn't thought of that,' Mort conceded.'Imagine toilet training fifty times.''Nothing to look back on, I imagine,' said Mort.'You're right. If I had my time all over again I wouldn't shouted.
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