In easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see, who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty’s horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door.
This treaty is to all intents and purposes no longer viable.
If it doesn't suit will you let Mrs. Langdon, the editress know by lunch-time today?
“It looked like she had definitely been wearing nail polish for two weeks,” Ms. Diamond said, sounding distinctly unhorrified.
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