FDV: "There was a little cloud in her lightdress looking down on them, listening all she could. She was alone. All her nuby compinions were sleeping like the squirrels. Their mither, Mrs Moonan, was away scrubbing the back steps at no 28. And as for the fur fuvver he was round up in Norwood's Sokaparlor eating oceans of ice. She listened as she listened and she tried all she tried to make the Mooks look up at her (but he was far too farseeing) and to make the Gripes hear how quiet she was (but he was not much too auricular about him self) but it was all love's labour lost. She tossed her hair like the little princesse de Bretagne and she rounded her arms like Mrs Cornwallis West and she smiled over herself like the daughter of the queen of the emperor of Ireland and she sighed after herself, like"
FDV2: "There was a little Cloud in her lightdress looking down on them, listening all she could. She was alone. All her nuby compinions were asleeping like the squirrels. Their mivver, Mrs Moonan, was away scrubbing the back steps at no 28. And as for fur fuvver he was up in Norwood's Sokaparlor eating oceans of ice. She listened as she reflected herself and she tried all she tried to make the Mooks look up at her (but he was far too farseeing) and to make the Gripes hear how quiet she was (though he was not much too auricular about him self) but it was all cloud's labour lost. Not even her reflection would they take their
mysteries:
[07:31-09:29]
I.6: 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168
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