She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. There was, in fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached the hotel without falling down. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. Like the parrot, she could memorize the lines, but she could not understand them.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 20-09-2024 16:46:24
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