"'Cheer up, it's all downhill for a bit now. And the midges are all dead wi' the cold. Count your blessings.' . . .
. . . 'Blessings, is it?' Buck rubbed a hand over his face. Neither of them had shaved in a week, and he looked as red-eyed and grubby as Roger felt. He scratched his jaw consideringly. 'Aye, well. A fox took a shit next to me last night, but I didna step in it this morning. I suppose that'll do, for a start.'"
[and page 258. Woah! She hit me in between the eyes with that disclosure!].