They had got away with nothing worse than bruises and were catching their breath, Nico grinning like a loon.
Once he was sure the thugs weren’t following them, Martin told her, “You’re crazy, you know.”
“What? They looked at me funny and hesitated. ’S a distraction.”
“OK, but that?”
“Think they didn’t know the song?”
“If they knew it, it helped with looking crazy.” Martin didn’t think the lyrics fit Nico’s upbeat rendition.
She sniffed and straightened up. “’Minstrel Boy’ seemed appropriate. ’S traditional.”
“Traditionally it doesn’t use the same melody as ’Pop Goes The Weasel’.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No.”