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unearths some literary gems.
From The Case of the Canterfell Codicil, by PJ Fitzsimmons:
***Both wings are two stories high and in the Perpendicular Gothic style, so a lot of frightful gargoyles perched on top of vertical beams, looking down on one as if the whole affair is somehow one's fault.***Between the wings is...a granite statue long since worn to a nub by the elements, depicting either George Slaying the Dragon or the Birth of Venus.***"May I offer you my condolences, sir"...."You may, Carnaby, so long as you don't mind me pocketing them for later consumption. I barely knew the man."***very much in the mould of...your Friars Tuck***"We called him Fiddlesticks, for Fairfax."***His aged face...was a pastiche of emotion ranging from insouciance to indifference.***"You look enough alike to be close friends or acquaintances."***"So, how are you holding up?" I asked. "Anything a vacuous young bachelor with little to no life experience can offer in terms of comfort and support?"***"It was a cherished gift," said Laetitia, who had recovered her composure and gathered it into a state of high dudgeon.***"I was referring to the painting, about yay big..." I held my hands up, indicating a rectangle the size of a "yay," whatever that may be.***He put his drink on the table between us, freeing up his hands to fidget independently.***"Mr. Boisjoly," called List Porter, the landlord, with equal parts pomp and circumstance.***Porter occupied the organic centre of a rhizomatic information network, the dichotomy of which was that he somehow knew more and knew it sooner than any of his sources.***"Stick to them like glue, Vickers," I said. "The inspector will be requiring their presence in the conservatory this afternoon, tea-ish. Stick to yourself like glue as well, you will also be required."***I tapped on the door and, sure enough, I was greeted with an amiable "Go away."***Ivor glared at me with an intensity that required his eyebrows to join forces.***
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