‘Not’ ‘Mansfield Park’ and ‘Not’ by ‘Jane Austen’.

Wednesday – not Tuesday, nor Thursday – was the day in question. I had eaten a condemned man’s hearty breakfast (he was furious), and, soon after, the Brioche arrived – along with some Crawford’s Crackers freshly delivered from the depot at Seven Sisters (no Brothers). I was already full, and, doing nothing, readily granted others to take and fill their faces – and all before it was first light.

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