‘Kept me out of mischief, too,’ Willie added, then grinned suddenly. ‘Except in Papeete. Met a girl called Lala who took a shine to me. After three weeks I could ’ardly stand up. Then I found she was the local witch-woman an’ was priming me with love potions. Lucky I was only after a couple of small black pearls there.’
‘Love potions?’ said Tarrant with disbelief. ‘I thought primitive aphrodisiacs of rhinoceros horn and the like had been disproven.’
‘Try a week with Lala sometime,’ Willie said. ‘She uses some kind of crushed ant, I think. Anyway, it works.’
(A Taste for Death, chapter 10)