Her head hurt terribly from the transition. What year was it? 1920? 2120?”
She managed to recover and get up. Time to see if Jacob I. was truly out of here, taking his talking bone cat with him. She knocked the knocker.
“Jacob’s really gone, isn’t he G.G.?”
“Then who the hell is that??”
“And give me back my hat and hair,” Hank whispered louder while the knocks continued.