Glaring at the doctor, Kev spoke in Romany. “Ka xlia ma pe tute.” (I'm going to shit on you.) “Which means,” Rohan said hastily, “ ‘Please for­give the misunderstanding; let's part as friends.’ ” “Te malavel les i menkiva,” Kev added for good mea­sure. (May you die of a malignant wasting disease.) “Roughly translated,” Rohan said, “that means, ‘May your garden be filled with fine, fat hedgehogs.’ Which, I may add, is considered quite a blessing among the Rom.