Sentence The Fivehundredandfirst 

Teri was aware of a slight gaposis as she fastened the buttons on her scrubs – just a tad more on her hips and her upper body, but hey, she thought, the more the merrier: “oh, I'm a slyboots,” she thought, for Mister MacMurdo would be working today and she noticed more than twice the way his eyes undressed her whenever they encountered each other; she would be his adjuvant today, ever at his side, handing him whatever he wanted – well, maybe not everything on a plate, he'd have to earn that – or, more correctly, everything he needed to perform his work; the first patient, she noted, on glancing at the list was an elderly man she had seen before, and often considered to be an autochthon, as if he were carrying the genes of the original Neanderthal inhabitants of the area, long before the

Romans came marching in columns over the hills and into the broad valley, the people who had dug out and raised up their fort on the top of the Eildons, and probably lived in the Cavern system which had newly been identified, for there were still families extant who in their features presented a glimpse of those long-ago people, seeming to be direct descendants; but thinking of the Cavern made her wonder about her cousin Roxy Davidova, leader of the Unionist Party at Holyrood, who had been lowered into the Cavern only yesterday and seemed to have mysteriously disappeared – what could possibkly have happened to Roxy down there?