— The giant sun is in his emanence but which is chief of those

white dwarfees of which he ever is surabanded? And do you think

I might have being his seventh! He will kitssle me on melbaw.

What about his age? says you. What about it? says I. I will

confess to his sins and blush me further. I would misdemean to

rebuke to the libels of snots from the fleshambles, the canalles.

Synamite is too good for them.

El gigantesco sol emenece, pero ¿cuál de esos dos enanos que lo rodean es amo? ¡Y que pienses que yo podría haber sido el séptimo sullo! Me cosquilleará el codo. ¿Y su edad? Dices tu. ¡Qué de qué? Me confesaré de sus pecados y me sonrojaré. Haría mal en reñir a las tiras de mocos de esos caroñeros, canallas. La sinamita es mucho para ellos.