dressed-to-kill babes and their sugar daddies would rather pose in malls, and teenagers can find McDonald's anywhere, leaving Váci utterly dependent on tourists for its livelihood and bustle.
Fidei Defensor they could not, would not, or cared not to understand; but Tabaci Tutelaris Regina—patroness of the great chew-quid, smoke-puff, dust-sniff interest—they could. Hence ‘To the Queen;’ and hence the expected rush to this Nicotine Balmoral. Hence the vision of the fair daughters of Albion, North and South, armed with this reginal exotic, pursuing their household and artistic labours amid puffs, and sniffs, and parotid exudations.
They were all doomed to be disappointed, however, for the errant engine decided at Stanley junction to spend the remainder of its crowded hour of freedom on the Aberdeen line, and finally came to rest, short of breath, in the dip between Ballathie and Cargill, near the bridge over the Tay.