Dillan, Judge, an Assent

The man was young, lanky enough by the sprawl of his dark hair sticking to his pale forehead in strings. For a moment, nuna did not recognize him. His features crushed into ananymity with distress. It was only when his eyes, screwed shut, burst fearfully open that his face turned into one nunan knew god above in heaven,. Is that you? Dillan, judge. Nownan out a balona and that there is gardto prunche swift prunches. George was from ballanare town. He was what you would call known to the police. In his early twenties, he had already run up a decent tally of minor convictions