Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. "I was about to add," continued Gay, "that my opera shall have no music except the good old ballad tunes. It proved to be a human head, though with scarcely a vestige of the features remaining. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat.
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