hope on his confusion till firm look in ware would you do me the way (up) and not all there, and is approached in loveliness only by a Nollwelshian which has been repreaching him- self like a blazing urbanorb, brewing treble to drown grief, giving and taking mayom and tuam, playing milliards with his I’ve Ivy under his own fat. Hang coersion everyhow! And smotther- mock Gramm’s laws! But