Wednesday, 27 August
Bimble,
I was under the impression that that bally floor show of humanity's ancestors to whom you have given haven and the nominal title of 'domestics' were your relatives, after I realized they were not hired from Vaudeville or one of this nation's great vanishing traveling side-shows. Frelny is certainly no blood of mine; I have no living relatives, not since the incident which for legal reasons I am constrained to refer to only as 'the incident'. (I remind you that nothing has ever been proven.)
More importantly, Schwitters informs me that Brattlesby claims that Smiith's wife Infidelia knows someone named Jacoby (or possibly Jacobi or Hargreaves), who was actually present in the Cretan Room of the 6% Club when Schbilson overheard Old Canker tell Willilly that Benchmarck was unaware of Snegny's dallyings and goings on in the Top Hat's walk-in freezer with the so-called Mr. Chester Toast during Pgeggle's second wake, and I don't have to tell you what that means.
Loathe,
Punter
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