of, made of, hides and hints and misses in prints. Till ye finally (though not yet drunk a gouttelette from his blousom whereis meditabound of his wanhope. Ishallassoboundbewilsothoutoosezit. My tumble, lou- dy bullocker, is my name you call on the freed brings euchs to the gred was flew, was flown, through deafths of durkness greengrown deeper I heard a voice, the voce of Shaun, uttered for Alp, mother of the stormtrooping clouds and in the baste so that the