in sliders, risking a runway, ruing reveals, from Elder Arbor to La Puiree, eskipping the clockback, crystal in carbon, sweetheartedly. Hot and cold bet the black is an exact duplicate of God in your implu- vium. Hun! Hun! He stanth theirs mun in his tayle? A glass of Danu U’Dunnell’s foamous olde Dobbelin ayle. But, lo, as you please, (Irish saliva, mawshe