“. . a politician, a whore-master, a physician . . . a traitor or the like; that is all according to the due course of things. Swift, Gulliver’s Travels George Dunwoody smiled a little foolishly as he directed his wayward feet towards his own wee door. The crack had been no’ half bad at the tavern, men of a decent age all with tales to tell; most stories George had heard before, but having the pelf for a decent dram of whisky brightened the prospect of an oft repeated anecdote, and he hi...mself had been accorded pride of place, having brought in a healthy round. Money cements friendship. Of course, no mention, not a hint of present events; this knowledge George hugged to himself, while regaling the party with the umpteenth retelling of the blessed day he saw his teeth smiling like a lover’s promise from the market stall. All the time, though, his ears were cocked for scraps of gossip or a remark made in drink at a nearby table, for his hearing was sharp as a razor shell.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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