Standing there, half-awake, pud in hand, he feels washed out and hungover, though he hasn't touched a drop in weeks.
He [Abraham] staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief.
Blast and botheration! exclaimed Digory. What's gone wrong now? …
Blast and botheration!
What's gone wrong now? …
Ah, go on now Masta Bones, with your impendements and your parrotricks ! Blank memory of darky in blued suit. You were ever the gentle poet. Be nice about it ! Look chairful!
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