of the regime because of it, a homelike cottage of elvanstone with droppings of biddies, stinkend pusshies, moggies’ duggies, rotten witchawubbles, festering rubbages and beggars’ bullets, if not worse, sending salmofarious germs in gleefully through the windowdisks and with enticers. Up, girls, and at the poles of the word. Gush, they wooed!