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and watched syllabub seep twixt crenelated fissureHe stroked her silken nebula with the throbbing tip of his credenza.
Cedric slowly circumnavigated Penlope's aching meridian, his throbbing sextant entering her wet astrolabe.![]()
Cedric slowly circumnavigated Penlope's aching meridian, his throbbing sextant entering her wet astrolabe.![]()
"Fool," she snapped. "That isn't my astrolabe. It's my barouche!"
"I thought we agreed to experiment," he replied, projecting his mercator into her axis.
Which is how Lord Sedgewick found them when he entered the room. "Penelope," he cried, "you shameless gig! Do you want the servants to see your curricle?"
"An ablation on the servants," Penelope retorted. "Cedric and I will convolvulus wherever we choose." She stormed out of the room, her hand defiantly on Cedric's pentacles.
She had a hot pulsing Volvo
"Hush child, don't weep."
"But his noggin, Mama... it's scarcely big enough to mark a furrow."
"Is that what saddens you child of my voluptuous oyster. Remember the old proverb, A ploughman's noggin is only as good as his ability to turn the furrow before planting the seed"
"I told him that at breakfast. We were talking about horticulture... the season is right. I thought I might slip it in while he worked the horses"
"And what did he answer my slippery pearl?"
"He said, 'You can lead a whore to culture but you can't make her think.'
"I think you need to change the battery of your babblefish."
Cedric paled. "Where are you going with those? They are borrowed, you know."
"It serves you right," said Sedgewick. "Only an idiot would let Penelope get her hands on his pentacles. You're lucky you still have your hassock and cameroons."