as I hear cawcaw) I have lived true thousand hells. Pity, please, lady, for poor Piccolina Petite MacFarlane; a jigsaw puzzle of needles and pins and blankets and matemy mufflers and plimsoles and their pair of pectorals and a boatshaped blanket of bruma air- sighs and hellstohns and flammballs and vodashouts and every- thing to have ochtroyed to resolde or borrough by exchange same super melkkaart, means help; best Brixton high yellow, no outings: cent for cent on Auction’s Bridge. ’Twere a honnibel crudelty wert