Quite an array of walking wounded had streamed through the Inn seeking shelter, food, and solace. Tearful reunions. Frantic searches. “Would you believe it, dear,” Jules said disgustedly, “someone’s whining about losing crops and his shirt. The last thing we need is someone moanin’ and groaning. We’ve got injured. Some colonists died. That’s worse than his problems!”
Smiling sweetly, I replied, “Tell him next time ……..
……… ‘ get insurance ’ ”
Overhearing the conversation, JJ burst out laughing. “Good one, Mom. And subtle, very subtle.”