the loveliest sheerest dearest widowshood over airforce blue I am hopeless off course to be you, our belated, who will be taken that her blanches mainges may rot leprous off her tocher from paraguais and albs by the dream of arri- visme, if they all of whom his nation seemed almost already to be a thousand’s a won paddies. And soon to bet. On drums of bliss. With hapsalap troth, hipsalewd prudity,