DINER emptied his plate in a
TRICE. ‘It was nice,’ he said. ‘But the only thing to
SULLY my pleasure is offering an
INGOT and getting no change on it.’
DINER, perusing the racing guide, at LUNCH, in a
TRICE, changes his mind re the HORSE, whose
STYLE is in a state of SULLY after
COYLY losing not just the bettor’s shirt but his INGOT.
