gh methinksIve sniffedThe presence there of your bacteriumcoli. Give me your hand, dear love, and letme J)ayThe price of your sweet health — tomake me sick.Give me your hand, and let me kiss awayAll traces of your pyo cynanie. A Suggestion. When the postman to my portalCoines with dunning notes… … A SLUR.Miss C. Sharp— The understudy seems to be making a flat failure.Miss Befiat— Yes. Most of the audience are protesting her notes.
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