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"Would you tell me, please," said Quozl, a little timidly, "why you are painting those roses?" Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two. Two began, in a low voice, "Why, the fact is, you see, sir, this here ought to have been a red rose-tree, and we put in a white one by mistake; and, if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know. So you see, sir, we're doing our best, afore she comes, to—" "There's a fetish for that, I'm sure," Quozl remarked. "It's not ours!" squeaked Seven. |
MadelynClouseau |
LupineAssassin |
MeganBryar |
dmfalk |