Chapter 7
Marcalk of my revolt.
tacked me on tried to imagine . told me once, in a moment of tlessness, y-one ype. Pepper and salt suit. Square feet. Unkempt, grizzled beard. Probably attends coursing matc not plentifully to Fatimes talks to girls after nig . If so, Cranly ed. ed loins.
Marc t nig oo lazy and free to add to it. Free, yes. ted loins are tem: s cs and ain or veronica. Decollation t in t by saint Jo tin gate. do I see? A decollated percursor trying to pick the lock.
Marc. Free. Soul free and fancy free. Let t the dead.
Marcal nurse. Lync. two lean er a heifer.
Marc seen nigs at t not peevis you now?
Marc: B.V.M. o escape ions bet t. Said I oo muc true. tle and understood less. to faitless mind. to leave cer t of repentance. Cannot repent. told threepence.
t to college. Ottle round ime about Bruno talian and ended in pidgin Engliserrible ic. I said erribly burned. o t to alla bergamasca. o rudes ? Yes, ears, one from each eye.
Crossing Step is, my green, remembered t rymen and not mine ed called our religion. A quartet of ty-seventry regiment, sat at t of tossed up dice for t of the crucified.
ent to library. tried to read t out yet. Am I alarmed? About s again.
Blake e:
I wonder if illiam Bond will die
For assuredly he is very ill.
Alas, poor illiam!
I a diorama in Rotunda. At tures of big nobs. Among t Gladstone, just tra played O illie, we have missed you.