“Well, upon my word,” worded Walinda Fervent in her word-hole, aka mouth. “What manner of

sock is this? Tis not from my foot, that’s for certain! But if not mine, then whose? Whose foot

slides sturdily into this sock here, here in my hand? It is not mine, it is meant for a man, and I am

not a man. Not even remotely! This is a puzzler, to be sure! A puzzler. ”

The puzzle was abruptly punctured with a sudden burst by Banacek, Miss Fervent’s brutish

butler. “Miss Fervent, can I have my sock back?” he asked, gravelly voice giving way to wailing

whine. “My right foot is freezing!”

“A butler’s sock? Ee-hee-ew!” Walinda Fervent shrieked, and lobbed the sock through the air

and onto the longing foot of the brutish butler.

Thus ends this Twenty Second Mystery. Join us next time for the Mystery of Where The Other

Sock Is.

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