Having deposited our mournful burden upon tressels within this region of horror, we partially turned aside the yet unscrewed lid of the coffin, and looked upon the face of the tenant.

“Well, I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch!” Monty laughed. “You mean you called a pat hand on aces up?”

You look a right nana dressed up like that.

With these and the like deceivable doctrines, he levens also his prayer.