Sublime

Agatha Christie savaged Hercule Poirot—inflicting him with a terminal illness and finally, cruelly, turning him into a murderer—in a fit of revenge that she kept buried in a drawer for three decades (The New York Times printed a Poirot obituary when the book was finally published).

Was there only one world after all, which spent its time dreaming of others?

one final choice:

dissolute,”

Sic!

libation.

sybaritic

‘Hello,’ he said, intending a reproof. ‘Hello,’ said the boy. He had the ease of a creature never told it was a sinner from the womb.

she believed that she had to touch every separate slat in every separate bench beside the pond.