Eye bought a parse at the door and went inn, de-sending the stares to the seller, and sat down in front of the rose of books. Eye was to tyred to think strait, but new aye had to finish the task within too daze.

Eye grabbed a dictionary, and pored threw the paiges, pawing my hart and sole into my righting, until aye felled that eye could do know more for that knight. Eye wood halve to return to the library again next weak. But eye had no thyme to spare. Bowledly, aye grabbed the book, and put it in my sac, looking around to sea if anyone was watching, then ran out of the plaice.

Aye no the plan is shore to fail, butt I have to give it my awl. Either aisle get it write, oar aisle dye trying. Butt I ham sure of won thing. This is the last thyme that aisle urn a D- for my bad righting.