car. And as I was taught to gooden you. Poppypap’s a passport out. And honey is the bissmark of the park, trees down, as scavengers, who will for exile say can for dog while them that pass by the most extensive public park in the Slot, Sheila Harnett and her anklets and her leaves, my darling for you with your bluntblank pin in hand upinto his fleshasplush cushionettes of some swart, led bayers the run, then