
A suave little sprite, Bobby Mahogany dwells in large furniture stores and whispers suggestively into visiting ladies’ ears: “oh, wouldst not that chest of drawers look delicious in thy bedroom?” or “my sweet, thou hast only been in here for an hour, why not look at all the chests of drawers again?” or “of course, a lady canst never have too many chests of drawers.”
But a lady CAN have too many chests of drawers. He’s evil. Pure evil.
Harry had definitely gone to bed drunk, and he had certainly eaten a lot of cheese. These were two facts: solid, uncontroversial, the kind of truths you could rap your knuckle on.

