Bill slouched up to the tent and entered. When he beheld the magnificent proportions of Robert he said but little - 'Strike me pink!' were the only words the children could afterwards remember - but he produced fifteen shillings, mainly in sixpences and coppers, and handed it to Robert.

Oh, that he finagled. No fate involved. He saw you in the waiting area and sweet-talked the woman behind the counter to sit the two of you together.

The earth also was corrupt before God, and the earth was filled with violence.

[…] This ‘Fourth Reich’ section of the City has no decrease in the number of Central European refugees.