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| Line 10: |
Line 10: |
| | with gaeilish gall wodkar blizzard's business Thornton had with | | with gaeilish gall wodkar blizzard's business Thornton had with |
| | that Kane's fender only to be answered by the aggravated | | that Kane's fender only to be answered by the aggravated |
| − | assaulted that that that was the snaps for him, Midweeks, to sultry | + | assaulted that that that was the snaps for him, [[Midweeks]], to sultry |
| − | well go and find out if he was showery well able. But how trans- | + | well go and find out if he was showery well able. But how |
| − | paringly nontrue, gentlewriter ! His feet one is not a tall man, not
| |
| − | at all,man. No such [[parson]]. No such fender. No such lumber. No
| |
| − | such race. Was it supposedly in connection with a girls, Myramy
| |
| − | Huey or Colores Archer, under Flaggy Bridge (for ann there is
| |
| − | but one liv and hir newbridge is her old) or to explode his
| |
| − | twelvechamber and force a shrievalty entrance that the heavybuilt
| |
| − | Abelbody in a butcherblue blouse from One Life One Suit (a
| |
| − | men's wear store), with a most decisive bottle of single in his
| |
| − | possession, seized after dark by the town guard at Haveyou-
| |
| − | caught-emerod's [[temperance]] [[gateway]] was there in a gate's way.
| |
| − | Fifthly, how parasoliloquisingly truetoned on his first time of
| |
| − | hearing the wretch's statement that, muttering Irish, he had had
| |
| − | had o'gloriously a'lot too much [[hanguest or hoshoe]] fine to
| |
| − | drink in the House of Blazes, the Parrot in Hell, the Orange Tree,
| |
| − | the Glibt, the Sun, the Holy Lamb and, [[lapse not leashed]], in
| |
| − | Ramitdown's ship hotel since the morning moment he could
| |
| − | dixtinguish a white thread from a black till [[the engine of the laws declosed unto Murray|the engine of the
| |
| − | ]][[the engine of the laws declosed unto Murray|laws declosed unto Murray]] and was only falling fillthefluthered
| |
| − | up against the gatestone pier which, with the cow's bonnet
| |
| − | a'top o'it, he falsetook for a cattlepillar with purest peaceablest
| |
| − | intentions. Yet how lamely hobbles the hoy of his then pseudo-
| |
| − | jocax axplanation how, according to his own story, he was a
| |
| − | process server and was merely trying to open zozimus a bottlop
| |
| − | stoub by mortially hammering his <I>magnum bonum</I> (the curter the
| |
| − | club the sorer the savage) against the bludgey [[gateway|gate]] for the boots
| |
| − | about the swan,Maurice Behan, who [[hastily into]] his shoes with
| |
| − | nothing his hald barra tinnteack and came down with homp,
| |
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Page 62 Page 64
ing in a bytheway that he, the crawsopper, had, in edition to
Reade's cutless centiblade, a loaded Hobson's which left only twin
alternatives as, viceversa, either he would surely shoot her, the
aunt, by pistol, (she could be okaysure of that!) or, failing of such,
bash in Patch's blank face beyond recognition, pointedly asked
with gaeilish gall wodkar blizzard's business Thornton had with
that Kane's fender only to be answered by the aggravated
assaulted that that that was the snaps for him, Midweeks, to sultry
well go and find out if he was showery well able. But how
