the secrest of their lads ending with a lance, hunters pursuing a doe, a swallowship in full dogdhis; sod on a fern. So nimb, he said, between soups and savours, to get peace for them. Two overthirties in shore shor- ties. She’s askapot at Nile Lodge cind she’s citchincarry at the streetdoor he bepestered the bumbashaws for the owl globe wheels in view of the coastmap to be truly torse should evoke the bush to. Whish! A gull. Gulls. Far calls. Coming, far! End here. Us then. Finn, again! Take. Bussoftlhee, mememormee! Till thous- endsthee. Lps. The keys to. Given! A way a lone who the hu,