When we tried to drag her out of the peat, her husband came out of the house.
He had obviously been drinking, and his left hand held a meat cleaver.
"You," he said, "are Martian Spies."
"Why heavens no," we replied, assuming our quasi-neo-classical-bogus looks
of innocence [taught us by the late great Mars Jimmy, who was famous for saying "Who, me?"], "we just thought we'd throw your wife into the peat and drag her out again."
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