Master Ono’s visitor accommodation

Master Ono's visitor accommodation

That evening, Joe was so exhausted, he did not even want to read. Veronique had retired to the bath, a phial of Lazarus root in her hand, grumbling whenever her raw heels caught the floor. Orma had extolled the virtue of the powder for relaxing and rejuvenating tired and aching muscles – at this rate, there would be none left by the weekend!
‘Oh, my God!’ Sam groaned, flopping onto his bed. ‘That was hard work!’

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