I confess I am rarely called upon to review books. One or two people have hinted that my reviews reveal the acerbic side of my character, a charge I vehemently deny.
Others say that I have a tendency to dwell lovingly on my own exploits and somehow overlook the merits of the writer whose work I am supposed to be reviewing. Obviously this is nonsense.
Would the poet who managed to convince Port Naain society to accept a gangster’s moll as one of their own fall into that trap? To be fair, she was the moll of a very socially acceptable gangster and a sharp lady on her own account. She mixed very nicely with the other ladies, and many sought her advice when they had problems with domestic staff, unwanted suitors or similar.
Indeed I have been a pillar of the literary scene in Port Naain for a number…
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