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unearths some literary gems.
From Tales from Greenery Street, by Denis Mackail:
***"I can't untelephone all the calls I had three months ago."***[A wrapped parcel] which might have been either a barometer or a ukulele.***Mrs. Grabley...vanished to complete whatever extraordinary task can have involved a toastrack and a man's boot.***Mr. Poulton smiled for a moment, and as anyone would who had ever seen his sister-in-law in the giggles. [I really like "in the giggles," as though it's a place, or perhaps a substance that one can immerse oneself in.]***Mr. Poulton's forehead had crumpled up into an intricate pattern.***He went back to the drawing-room with one eyebrow raised very high, and the other frowning horribly. This sinister expression exactly corresponded with his mood, which was a mixture of anger and bewilderment.***Under the searching light of philosophical inquiry there is always something faintly ridiculous about clothes.***
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