“What makes you think that?” I asked, handkerchiefing my upper slopes, which had become considerably bedewed. I didn't like this line of talk at all.
Oh, Christopher rheumatism doth not seem to have made thee less esurient or sitient, when the hospitality of Glasgow, or of other gormandizing and boozing places, is within thy reach.
The morose Ed Wilshot poured himself another drink and mumbled something about taking three weeks off the chain and heading south for some sunshine.
I'd like to invite you all to my birthday.
アカウントを持っていませんか？ 新規登録
アカウントを持っていますか？ ログイン
DiQt（ディクト）
無料
★★★★★★★★★★
