"And so this is a diamond," added he, contemplating the brilliant from the hollow of his hand: "it does sparkle almost as brightly as your ogles. I get my driver's license tomorrow. No, none at all. ” He mumbled, driving on. Wood, whose loss I shall ever deplore. Give me your hand. “I do love you. With his foodle doo! This carpenter he had a wife, The plague and torment of his life, Who, though she did her husband scold, Loved well a woollen-draper bold.
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