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16 February

Posted on February 19, 2011 by Captain P. Fawcett

Poor old LevittEventually arriving at cell no 1957, the warder glances through the spy hole inserts a key and opens the heavy door with a stomach churning creak.

There sat on the cot, head in hands was Levitt dressed in the gaudy livery I can best describe as that of an end of pier pantomime dame. Levitt raised his head, tracks of tears visible through his slapped on pancake makeup.

Good Lord Levitt I quipped I thought that course of treatment had put an end to this nonsense more than twenty years ago. C.F.

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