“Can you tell me why it is,” said Ian in an aggressive way, “every time we go into a fucking pub you go ballsing on about bleeding Lance Platt. Can you tell me that?”
The bal masqué was ‘a scene of undisguised indecency, drunkenness, and vice.’
I trust that Mrs. Duke has hearty, calorie-ful eating on this pie.
At eve the beetle boometh / Athwart the thicket lone.
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DiQt（ディクト）
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