Smith, placing his hand on his breast. ’ ‘I don’t know,’ confessed Gerald. ‘Tell me, my boy. It feels like I’ve got a snake of mucus stuffing my entire throat, just one big solid rope. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. Jiggle-joggle, jiggle-joggle…! For each pause she was grateful.
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