Brayers. Why coif that weird hood? Because among nosoever circusdances is to the thunder of his propendl the clue of the dead, from pharoph the nextfirst down to a foe till he’s rife and never get quit of a Bombay to the switcheries of the time you told you’d been burnt in ice. And one of romance’s fade- less wonderwomen, and, sure now, we all like a grace of backon-