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10 сентября 2016 г., 21:44
“By Christmas, the bones of this dead and gruesome stinker will be nestling in the delicately perfumed corsets of some as yet unfucked lovely dancing the Gay Gordons in a ballroom on the Strand. That’s a thought to fairly make your head spin, is it not, Mr. Black?” Cavendish says.
“Behind every piece of sweet-smelling female loveliness lies a world of stench and doggery,” Black agrees. “He’s a lucky man who can forget that’s true or pretend it isn’t.”
