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absurd, piteous human fears!—that my too unguarded closeness

time: 2023-12-06 10:25:03laiyuan:toutiaovits: 75564

So must I ker, daiya, to ker tute mistos? It is my Dovvel's kerrimus, and we can't help asarlus. Mi Dovvel opral, dick tuley opre mande. If I could lel bonnek tute, het-avava tute. Misto kedast tute. Dovey si fino covar, ratfelo jukkal, sas miro.

absurd, piteous human fears!—that my too unguarded closeness

The plastra-mengro sollohaul'd bango. Me camava jaw drey the Nevi Wesh to dick the purey Bare-mescrey. You jin feter dovey oduvu. Will you pes for a coro levinor? Ma pi kekomi. Ma rokra kekomi. Bori shil se mande. Tatto tu coccori, pen. Kekkeno pawni dov odoi. Sore simensar si men.

absurd, piteous human fears!—that my too unguarded closeness

Tatto ratti se len. Wafudu lavior you do pen, miry deary Dovvel. Kair pias to kair the gorgies sal. Nai men chior. So se drey lis? Misto sis riddo. Muk man av abri. Ma kair jaw. Si covar ajaw. An men posseymengri. Colliko sorlo me deavlis. Pukker zi te lesti. Soving lasa. Tatto si can. Mande kinyo, nastis jalno durroder. Ma muk de gorgey jinnen sore lidan dovvu luvvu so garridan. Dui trins ta yeck ta pas. Pes apopli. Chiv'd his vast adrey tiro putsi. Penchavo chavo savo shan tu.

absurd, piteous human fears!—that my too unguarded closeness

I'd sooner shoon his rokrapen than shoon Lally gil a gillie. Kekkeno jinava mande ne burreder denne chavo. Aukko tu pios adrey Romanes.

What must I do, mother, to make you well? It is my God's doing, and we can't help at all.

My God above, look down upon me! If I could get hold of you, I would slay you. Thou hast done well. That is a fine thing, you bloody dog, if it were mine. The Bow-street runner swore falsely. I will go into the New Forest to see the old Stanleys. You know better than that. Will you pay for a pot of ale? Don't drink any more. Do not speak any more. I have a great cold. Warm thyself, sister. There is no water there. We are all relations: all who are with us are ourselves. They have hot blood. Evil words you do speak, O my dear God. Make fun, to make the Gentiles laugh. I have no girls. What is in it? Thou art well dressed. Let me come out. Don't do so. The thing is so: so it is. Bring me a fork. To-morrow morning I will give it. Tell her your mind. Sleeping with her. The sun is hot. I am tired, I can go no farther. Don't let the Gentiles know all the money you took which you hid. Seven pound ten. Pay again. Put his hand into your pocket. The boy is thinking who you are.

I would rather hear him speak than hear Lally sing. I know no more than a child. Here's your health in Romany!


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