
We were sitting in the pub the other evening. A nice pub, called, “The Corner House,” it boasts a mixed clientele ranging from the young crowd popping in before the clubs, the council worker still in his overalls, the besuited solicitor and the shop assistant. No music or television screen, just conversation. Anyway my friend mentioned he’d watched a programme about Henry the Eighth being disillusioned with the monasteries. Had to laugh, I think he meant Wolf Hall and the dissolution.
Like how you’ve snuck that in
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