You are much more like what I was then. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. "Now, then, Saint Giles!" interposed Sheppard, "are we to be kept here all night?" "Eh day!" exclaimed Sharples: "wot new-fledged bantam's this?" "One that wants to go to roost," replied Sheppard. I’ve never seen her quite so sure of herself. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. “I liked him, and I never undeceived him. "On Friday," he replied. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. "The blood that has been spilt is that of his wife.
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