You don’t want to look like Bozo. "Who are you?" inquired Mrs. "Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said Jack. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own.
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