Mr. Berezovsky left Russia for a relatively opulent self-exile. . . . [H]e estimated his fortune at some $3 billion and he has enlisted high-powered public relations and law firms to fight his corner.

She tempted me to eat the apple.

Beddoes proved unquenchable and totally snubproof. Moreover he had very irritating conversational mannerisms like laying his forefinger along his nose when he was about to say something which he thought very knowing; […]

A few days later Jack told us the consensus of opinion was that the small tumor had looked highly suspicious, as in cancerous, but not the pancreatic kind. That was semi-positive, although I had a feeling it was his way of not scaring the crap out of us.