It was a neat, efficient-looking room,
with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a
bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a
pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. The same teardrop bust, the same long waist, the same
thick legs. Such was
the simple code that displayed itself in all his thoughts. She walked with
an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of
Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane
that led toward Caddington and the Downs. She watched for five
minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest,
past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign. I'm
heading for bed.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 04-07-2024 17:40:49