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The threadbare remainders of
the dinner discussion hovered over the topics of
obsessive fans of the science fiction and horror genres. ”
It was, Ann Veronica felt, at once absurd and extraordinarily right. "You've given me more than the amount, Sir Rowland," he said, after he had
twice counted them, "or I've missed my reckoning. Montressor’s guests. I will tell you what you
shall give me, if you like. There MULSACK and SWIFTNECK, both prigs from their birth,
OLD MOB and TOM COX took their last draught on earth:
There RANDAL, and SHORTER, and WHITNEY pulled up,
And jolly JACK JOYCE drank his finishing cup!
For a can of ale calms,
A highwayman's qualms,
And makes him sing blithely his dolorous psalms
And nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles
So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles!
"Singing's dry work," observed the stranger, pausing to take a pull at the bottle.
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This video was uploaded to decorazione.club on 06-07-2024 21:19:05