Echo of the widow Dimanche
The registrar stood open-mouthed next to the professor. Before them was a twisted unicorn's horn, an echo of that owned by the widow Dimanche, who sold water-cress in the streets of Paris. The patient was unmoved.
The registrar stood open-mouthed next to the professor. Before them was a twisted unicorn's horn, an echo of that owned by the widow Dimanche, who sold water-cress in the streets of Paris. The patient was unmoved.