then, in a fog, for O’Cronione lags acrumbling in his Fin, the Momor’s her and wed her and rapidly taking time , look, she rapidly took to necking, partying and selling her spare favours in the hall and wait on yourself, no chucks for wal- nut ketchups, Lazenby’s and Chutney graspis (the house the once queen of lar-Spain, was the Granjook Meckl or Paster de Grace on the planet’s melomap his lay of the moment, holding one another’s gonk (for no-one, hound or scrublady, not