Odd's Fish, M'dear! The Man Can't Even

There Is Such Wonderful Balm In Self-imposed Sacrifice.

Look At This Limp Cravet. And The Sad State Of Those Cuffs. I Can Hardly Bring Myself To Look Upon Them.

We Must Prove To The World That We Are All Nincompoops

To Love, For Us Men, Is To Clasp One Woman With Our Arms, Feeling That She Lives And Breathes Just As We Do, Suffers As We Do, Thinks With Us, Loves With Us, And, Above All, Sins With Us.

Now, When Their Glances Met, They Understood One Another. The Power That Lay Within Both Their Souls Had Met, And, As It Were, Clasped Hands. They Accepted One Another's Sacrifice. Hers, Mayhap, Was The More Complete Of The Two, Because For Her His Absence Would Mean Weary Waiting, The Dull Heartache So Terrible To Bear.