They deceive the very elect--and it's best to be prepared.

As it is, any friend of the doctor's is a friend of mine.

You're kindly welcome, I'm sure." "Thank you," said the professor limply.
The doctor handed them each a glass and raised his own.
"Let us drink," he said, "to Coombe.

'Coombe and the Soul cure!'" "Amen!" said Willits.
"Land sakes!" said Mrs.Sykes.

"I thought it was his spine!".