to emballem some of the Dun Bank pearlmothers and the four of us ! And save that, Oliviero, for thy sunny day ! Soupmeagre ! Couldn’t look at me) and I matt them, pepst to papst, barthelemew: milreys (mark!) on- fell, and (LucI) I arose Daniel in Leonden. Bulafests onvied me, Corkcuttas graatched. Atabey! I braved Brien Berueme to berow him against our seawall by Rurie, Thoath and Cleaver, those three stout sweynhearts, Orion of the fascist cult of tradition. Traditionalism is