The Lexus, emissary of all that was polished and gleaming and gorgeous and above all good, smoothed its path through the desolation of the eastern suburbs. By Page Park, a brief coagulation of the traffic compelled that conveyance to tarry awhile. In the back thereof, Lady Luncheon, fat and floral, adjusted the malevolent chihuahua reposing in the handbag upon her adamantine thighs, and eyed through the glass the louts and common sluts congregating upon the pavement. —
Lexus, Lady Luncheon
Beside her, Sir Hearty Luncheon, doyen of provincial merchant banking, and this late forenoon vey much resembling the form of an egg upon an exquisitely tailored boulder, drew breath, and then exhaled. —
Sir Hearty Luncheon
“I do wish, my dear,” said he finally, with in his tones something of the sepulchral, “I do wish that you would refrain from animadverting upon vulgar metters which quite properly fall beneath the notice of the cultivé. It is vey near to being the grossest form of cant, and I never did bear the cant.” —
Cant
“Quicksotte,” said Sir Hearty testily, “having more than once been put to the necessity of ejecting that certified cretin from my suite of offices, I have come to regard him as the epitome of cant,” and added by way of afterthought, “I never did bear the cant.” —
Don Quicksotte
A button being now depressed, all four windows scrolled downwards, introducing into the interior of the vehicle that portion of the global miasma pertaining to Mangotsfield, which was nonetheless relatively less offensive than what it had replaced. Lady Luncheon, espying upon the pavement some kind of local person, conceived an idea. —
Mangotsfield
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