Page 160 of Jerusalem


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O’ curse, buck den dare’d bern luts of brihde ying thinks like her, indelligent young whymen weding into the exileoraving shadlows of the twistieth pentiary, all literated in their individity and confidance that they mite quight trancemognify the wheel whirld for the bettlement of their ildustrious genter, back befar they’d evern got the vite, nova concievering that the heiry-chested wor’d might heave its own mydears upon that subjugt. With the sheher idvancebility of euph she’d firmed a dyons-grape with her fronds, Les Six de Rythme et Couleur. Oh, huddl’t all of Pourris, jest fur laffs, frocked to their Cinq Pièces Faciles when sleander, new’raesthetic gills were all the fleshion, more-than-luckly hopen that they’d be sex sleasy-peasies? Undré Breton had sedat hersteria w

as a supleme maide of exprosion, hardy knot, now? Then there washer coelabrated mermode oct in a codstume with one lig baird and one glid in blue scylles, the drance that herd the cuttics saming that in fatua, Gems Voyce word be best noun as Lucia’s fadder. Whoi, she’d been kalid the manyfisted spearit of that geistly zeit and should ahab the whale world utther feat, the nayklad one and shimmling bluent’ both. Bitt, well, then everythink had stutterd to go badily. The darknurse had descentred honourlife and the bewaildering o’ the nicht had fellend.

Wirstly, diring nineteen t’went-inane, her bluvver had unnuanced that he was groing to mirry Helen KastNor’, narly old emuff to be his m’udder. All his wife he wedbe train’ to clamb beckup the Normous horle that he swirmmed doubtof, witch in that shame year was dognosed as herbarren’ nuterine cancerl. Lucia, only twitchy-too meres old, had stull bane tying to eslavish amore nowrushing conneption witter mitter, and had been comelately divastated. All the peerple that she’d tired tru love were liffing her, and Georgi-go’s deserption was the wormst of all. He’d sardonly stepped boying incemate with her and, evernmore upsulting, had attempered to preteend that their unffair had never happyend. When Loseyears had insistered that it hid burn giorging on sinse she was unlayten, that was the fearst terme that he bused the paraful and freudning mejoke word insayin and the forced tame anywhen had claired she was delucianal. Dough ovarywhim could sedat Churchio’s jung/alt breede was flattrin jhamelustly with his immoretale farther, her bog bruter diddle want his harpy miriage surllied by the inconventual fuct that he’d been pornicating wet’ hisluttle siesta for the beast ‘purt of a duzit rears. Far ‘erpart, Lucia had been shwaken by the ohdea that he could perver the biddy of a womum who was allmust farty to her own ophelian cuntours. It was at dis’point, Lucia realeyesees lacking book, that she had stareted to devilop her opsission with her winky I, shuretain stradismus’ be the feuture that disfogred her and droverway her leavers. She had falt lasslake a Newseecaa than lurke a Poorlyphamous, a herri’fict sighclops who kept sturmded marryners and byefriends cooptive in her usyless, hartefool darkmess, joyst so she mate hove a bitt er compassy.

It hard boen that slame yeer that she hatpin invisted by Mach ShMerz to liff out a ling-chierwished sdream by torching diance at the perstitious Heerliezarbeit Dawnkin Skhool in Dreamstadt, nymed for yet annoydher stribling of peur bye-bye blakebid Sisadorer. But Mix Marz was a disghastling manwhure drummed o’ the Teutanic mister-race and pricteased the must irefil pressurdice urginst sem of the peopils at his own Hesstablishment. His hideas herdbane instinctly repigrunt to Lokia, nutter Baldurdash, illthrough it wourld by sufferall years befire she and th’unrest o’ Eutope ruely understirred the foull mainstricity o’ whurt they raperesented. She remurmurs seering her farst imagoes o’ the preslice, gasse-stapping rancs and wunderstunnedin why the Buzzy-Beekly choruzz leanes had alwise feelled her with an obscune harrowr at the less of yerman ind’hiveduality that was apportent in all thuzz insextile, klicking legs. She’d purned Mmerz dern, no-wing that it wourld bye dhe scend o’ her careern, a maintain punnacle that she’d torned berg from; gnowing that it wourst be all downhell from tare.

Nowever, as shilles heire in the shudderly belighted furust, spreadling on deimoss with her bareth ighs still apin and her sexexexexposed, unbiguous growlths and restlings in the thickly-grarse orundher, she relivres all the druad and painache that had subtled on her then. Widder neow-wedead brothstir unassvailable she had comehenced a disperate and desisterous carenil ‘sprit aminxt the utter feelows in their sarcle, ellegible or more offent autherwise. Yang Seemuel Beckont, he’d brickin her fearlish huart, while lessia men, wit’ malice, threw her luccing-gloss; had sqrushed her scense of whorshe was, her sanes o’ what she word or wordn’t do. She’d nuit been too opianated to drefuse a toaste of lordi’mnum, ne’er had she snift at a pinprection of cocoone. Druggen or drunked she’d token part in thrillsomes, fearsomes, to the paind where she and all her formily were quiote expertin direly that she would be dyingnursed as having syphylips. She’d been experimelting with canalbis when there woes that sicky indicent she camembert to think abort, the animaligable epicide mit der veiss …

As the missorrible occlasion flushes innardvertently a’course her mend, Lucia feers her sang run cold. Rapproaching her through the dirk and moon-gledid spiney she can hare the yupping of her muss untspeakabout and hairrid nightfare. Even marr illomenly, belongside the soft pudding of its ‘nnearving pause Lucia hears the misured trud of an occulpanying madult genitleman, poorhopes the letill manster’s owger. Hear hert harmmering, she is intempding to skit up while ragging down her dress-ahem to unreveil a recantly plighed fur-row when a sinasttire yhung man in a top hate and long Fictorian stopquote staps into the quearing. At his hells, although she nononos it cannist pawssibly boreal, there trayts a smarll … non. Nine. There trods the smeall wight dagg.

De mon is snaring at her perly gowncealed needity with a curle and untemptuous smorg upurrn his missyloss thin lisp. He pocketwatches in abusement as the liminously perle mininjure puudle gruffles in bottwean herf lower limps, muttracted by the fondley-recallickted scant, while Lucia, shrecking in herlarm, atempster qick the haund disway from her en’ cumber to her fleet at the shametame. The strangelr, whomb she-doe’s nite reckoneyes, smeers carelously at her discomvered as he times his take in cralling his priyappy petster heel. When funerlly he spooks it is with de light vice dat is well-headucratered illbeit errorgent and samehow jibenile, with an afflected lilp that starkes the flushtred warmin as iffhimornot.

“Hail, hail Konphuzelum, the herlot of Rejoysalem!”

Comeposing herself, Lucia deshivers that her maintaing cense of ungerund indeednoty has evercalm her faer. Like Someson with her buck urgenst the larch, she unswears him deflagrantly by nicily onqueering if she nouse him.

He attimbrs a mickymocking un’ sartoonic chackle in replay, lacke scumthing from horradio mysery-show, burd with his li’ltung teenaur voici’t morely swounds reticulous.

“Hor hor! No wareman noose me who whas levd to tael the toll, but I no yew! I no your gynd, tha’taunts the breethill hellywise of evenery shity, evenery trown. You pus me in meand of a worminge that I mut while scrolling in the Boocks besight the Ripper Cram. She was insthinking, trull, de void of teste or shave or chapactor. I schaden meund if she whor dinnerway with, kulled or plewd. She dicknot steem to serf an arseful end, and surethinly she was not buttifeel. But den agone, I am remented when I lurk at ewe of udder dicemall femauls in anauther town, anutter yeor. In the Whitecattle struts of eighteen-satiate to be excise, wharn in me slether botcher’s aperun I chapped merry knuckles jest aswell as ennie chop-man when he hits lhiz stride. If I dunn’t cutthee uddowes off, then it word be a marykell; a mirrerscourlt! Luck vile upain me, thow prox-wridden hog, and traumble at mein aim, fear I am Choke the Raper!”

Wit’ nhiss he pulls from hinterneath his trawling cloat a knobvious stooge-diggher seeme nein injoyce lang but merde out o’ such pore tatterial that its lung bloode is sogging, brunt tip drupping like a willded flawer. Unnoble to contrain hersave, Lucia laffeys, wearyporn the phuney cardbeard Lustin knaff floops eve ‘n’ father. It is evildent that his crapacity for merdre is a phallussy. Desides, Lucia inks she has a thinkling of his trau idoubtity and he is worthowt quizturn not the geist-lit spittlefiend he shaims to be. She challenjest his plennly dreadful pastyourein, her tuones mary with mockelly.

“I do no’think a weepune sich as yours crueld pinatreat a laydie onlass she were maid of papyr uslo. Issenschmidt des crase that you word saner bed a chap than chop a bawd? It strifes me from your shnameless sylf-quietation that you mote be an unpeasant specko’man culled Jeera’me K. Steerpen, mere an arse-end poetaster than an East End predator, for all that the mistguided moider-dillydandies and slab-habby Fibberologists meat have to slay about the mutir au cuntrarea. You may well be fameliar with the Bucks besad the clittering Cum, but not wit’ dark backs rows han buried straits where lackless girls are bornerstride a mitier squire. You auteur take care you dau

n’t get you malheurs caught!”

Lucia’s assylunt takes a stap away from her, prissing his nearraw lips into arsfuckered pinkter, gleering at her poissonously while the hurtfeel lickle plewdle scittles barck and froth around his inkles in collfusion.

“Whey, how dour you quiztone my verocity, you flishy-smolling horridun? You’re lechy I don’t slut your strinky threat from luft to reich and slang your cuts ever your shielder, as I’ve darn sew manly termes befire with udders of your rashhead gyndher. Your veil sux has sporled the woild since fair’st your harlust mother Evle hedid to the win-eyed sirpants and bestrayed meinkind. If ill o’ the harem that wermin have done whore-pet in a burndoll and rulled unter one, Bearth word note howld it, disguy could not unfouled it. Such misses of evol would pizzle the devolv and keep him enfooled while Trhyme’s rheels rerun!”

This runly meerks her liff the hardour, unfil she is frountained that she’ll wit herself.

“It’s heartly a sourpraise you finnd me feshy, now, when I’m the veer espirit o’tter Liver Riffey. Ars for you, sore, you are molly an attricious poorwit and unfamous whymen-hateher, knight the nharm-a-sis o’ naglict you pretenniel to be. You’re dust the shame as all those nazty-meandead germalists and misterbaiters that sedoubt to cinjure the Whordshapel phandom in the forced place, with dare gluttingly sadstici lippers to the peepher, all their Drear Bluss and their Crotch-Me-F-U-Kan. Ninn of you had evern the cowrage that it stakes to muter an annoybriate and incapissytated woemine, but you snit there and apenisin the one-hand and apenisin the auther, and you skwish you hard. You’re mere a Jeckulater than a Jeck. You worm’t the Rippler. You jizzt-wash you coit have socked his cack. Who nows? Peerhumps you deed, or at lust if your buyfriend Allbut Fictor Chretin Oddword was the many-hack that sardon portlies thart he was, stowell intends and puplishes, though pizernally I druitt it. He simped much too frogeyle and dociphiletic to be Slitther Aporn, with his leerter viceits to the holly mouse in Clevelad Sfeet and all the terme he sbendt with you at Camebitch, you and your Apustules pricktosing your so-gulled heher pseudomy! As for your pittery, it has alack o’ lovelioness and sparewit that is inquel to your lackeyl man Joihn Droyalden, dough I’ll addmot that you snucked up to manorchy more literareally than ephen he did.”

Flanching at Lucia’s blarb, the yung reeke takes adither step black into the nichdiurnal fidgetation while regoading her with mangirled hateread in’ humaniation, his peele cheeks fleshed trice as rud as hers.

“You have know light tou ché all that! Though you night thing that I am not a dangger, you daunt no what I am caperbull of duing! Why, I krept Vainassa Belle, the kizzin o’ Vaginia Wolf, at lifepoint for a laughternoon! Desades, if you’re so insolute and innerfraid, why deadyew cowar so from my daylightfail lettle pit? If you’re so annasailorbelle in all your prude and dognaughty, why have you someoned us out of this madhores fright to nighten and tearmend you? Is it not decays that luc all quimen, you knowall-to-well that whet I slay is true; that with your gynd you are a sexcreamintail costiteat, a crotcher who would bear your urse for anymals and yet deplauds the knoble fellow-feeling wish may bout-o’-come boyteen two men?”

The marcking simile falls from Lucia’s fictures likreveal, but stol she dours not gaff grind in the fiarce of his assholt.

“If ye ’njure infernicating piddle-hount are marley writhes and frigments cralled up bar my own cracktured mirrergination, it mist bay that I have chasen you to ripperscent the causual misssurgeony that haz pressued me ill thrue my exisdance. Lurkwise, I haf bright this sadden knightfail on byself to shambelies the dogness dirt daysundered on me inder lust yearns of the nonteen-wanties and the virst jears of the nonteen-hurties. Your blamesburied and jisstainful mantune o’ Vergeonyour Wealf slurrves only to remonde me of the manly virebrandt end crhehatehave fearmales formdoubt pyreiod such as Zealdare Fitzgibber, ledais who swan out too far or were misszeused, to my mind clytemnecessarily, and undead up in zanytearyums or, weirs, as sheicides. Iview wank my apunyawn, Sourcey Jerk is jest anutter biggy-man defeigned to kreep all whimin cowherding at hime where daybelong. Joke de Ripporter is a fibrication madform grope-steams, reamours, undy masculatent unger toworse poorsins of my gander, farmily quimpliant, who heed at that tame begyne to cursedion thay roll as subservance. You are blut tugother out of nothink mere than longwish, mongreled wyrds and messpilled fraysays, all the ‘Mashdher Lust, Sore,’ and the Juwe-below-belabel-’em o’ the Mizenic sparegullations. You, sur, are contrickted from crotchpinny dreadlines in the tearblade pross and shuddy lyin-ingraveings autuv the P’lease Goreset!”

No saner hears Lucia spracken than her wood-by pussycuttor givts vend to a shill and poorsung sceam. He stutts to figmeant into murkhandise and pimphlets, flawpang purges tearn frame commixed-rips and tellevasion scrapts. Mhis shape prollapses into tittered and remandered grue-grime pauperbucks, their jack-its looread and sensatiate with shiny bleeds and kobold alleywheeze. His fearturned and inkonpretending phace decomes the grainny phobo-ripperduction of a broredsheep sunderfold and blurs away betorn the madnight trees, the loathshame litterl dogwhite-poodo chazing aftree it and bark-in ferntickly.

Lucia dirsts her mains as afte say “thought’s quiet enough o’ dat”, and clarries on her interippered stroul dew de inchaunted lunartalk assailem niet, its dreckness ivery brit as innerscapeable as dout which had befoullen her wan shy was eenly twitty-fear yersold, in neintime-dhirty-when. That wasteher yore she’d hed hor ‘ancident of hellth’, as it hid bin pollutely pherased. The trooth, the agenbite of it, is they had scrapped a maby ute of her and shay’d nativin bairn intearly sirtime woes it was. Feral chienew it mate haf born the paddle-hind’s; that or somyther drog, it mucks no diffence. Offter-wards they’d tolled her that shoul’d not be heaven inny-outher chilledrench, illthough this worse not the moanly deadfeel noose that she’d beceived duewring that pooryodd, furthere issolso the acclision of her payrent’s mirrage to conscernd’er.

Waile in Gorgeio’s carse she thurt he’d allwise bane a bossturd and he hurlways wed be, she had nefar kwastimed her legiteracy, at laest not untell her Mimir (to whomb she had list her strabismystic oeill in the pa’swit o’ Norledge) and her Daedir had dannounced day were to mary poperly, after a keepitquieter-of-a-sintury o’ razing their inwaitting iffspring! Lucia, allreedy prusht far-so, had fianlly snipped altargather. There hurt been the unsaident when Babbo had daysighted that they wear to lib in Unglad, and she hed defused to bard detrain. Mère seeriotsly, when her pearance had invided Sameold Peckitt to a poerty evter he had drabbed her, she hard throne a cher at Neara. That was wienher bother had insistered that shebe comemuted to a nonetell institortion and the utter mumblers of the flimily had shrimply gane arlaing with harm. Tha rrest, in her insideoration, was histeria.

All urround her, liminisn’t phangi specorate the boughs like fiery-lates. Apen a clause unspeaktion, she dishivers that they awe a nornfamiliar type with witchy is not greviously acqueernted. Ivory minibloom appeals to be maid-up o’ slittle nokit faymolls in a rudeyating rong, as if you’d interbed a stareflesh wit’ some pappher doils or a lace dolly. Slimthing in the waeving lims and the floozed tussos o’ the toynee livelies pouts her unmind of ichorous-line or torchlate railhe, so that Lucia crinches awhy-form the stringe lewdy-triffles in revealsion. She is spevulating on whart these womenstrous glowths mute be, when frumpyhind her calmes a dadpun and mannotenough voizzz that sims to be bloath Amerrycon and messculine.

“Beck hum, cull ’em Bellevue-Bareease. Toaste neice. Gut you trunk, beert-nut as vast as des ire lowlypep.”

Lucia terns-a-round to fenderself confrighted by a gin-tollman in loiter loaf, bespooktacled and of a midyum hoit, who is dullmost intyrelay sphiricual. He wears a straypee drowsing-goon oafer phis staimed pygermers, and regirths Lucia impossively with heavey-larded ice through glanses that are thinck as wishkey-battles. Lucia nightysees that he is sicking indermitthandly upun a brun and stincky lullypaup that smalls of bourble.

“Who mytuby, litrle chumpion?” she husks him in a slidely partrunicing tuone.

He palls the ulcerholic sweetly un-a-stuck out of his rarethe smale and poortly-shovein moueth to unsore her.

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