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第7章 倾倒的咖啡

Virgil speaketh of: ignavum fucos pecus a praesepibus arcent.

ves his attention to the things of this world, how he may give pleasure to his wife.

uncertainty whether your father soon wore his heart out in prison,

was, that very same night, over a veal cutlet before the kitchen

twenty-pound note you’ve got—especially as we don’t very well

us:

villain bound with ropes. That was well done to tie a bunch of

Wandering through the crowd so as to escape a drunken uncle of Ron’s who seemed unsure whether or not Harry was his son, Harry spotted an old wizard sitting alone at a table. His cloud of white hair made him look rather like an aged dandelion clock and was topped by a moth-eaten fez. He was vaguely familiar: Racking his brains, Harry suddenly realized that this was Elphias Doge, member of the Order of the Phoenix and the writer of Dumbledore’s obituary.

waste land.