He ought to read the book; it was very good.
Constance endeavoured to get eight little boys to dance also; but the little lads were to shy, what an old woman, speaking of her grandson, calls “too daffish and keck-handed to learn such aunty-praunty antics,” and all that Constance could get in the way of male support was to induce eight little lads to look on, bend their knees, and bow at intervals, whilst the maidens sang and danced.
My favourite bit – bar the attempt to enforce a ruthless caste system in the no-mark community – is the prissy way Danny asterisks the word fuck …
He lowered the dosage after the election. That has been enough to sustain him through two months of doom scrolling about Trump denying the outcome and speculation about whether there will be a peaceful transition of power.
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