|
From: | Agatha Ford |
Subject: | [epsilon-doc] troubleshooting |
Date: | Tue, 12 Sep 2006 23:24:09 +0100 |
Richard would have been the last to wish
it.
Useless to try to murder him without an axe. Stan
and I met him at the Stadiumlast night.
Not like when Lalliedied, and he had gone on
waiting for her to come back.
However, after thinking for about threeseconds on
all I held sacred, I swore.
What, he said oracularly, is a biff in the neck
between father andson? The medical profession, of course, suggests itself
immediately.
Usually I amoccasionally invariably infallible.
Hedid show some interest in the subject of the revision of
theprayer-book.
He was staring straight in front of him with the
raptlook of a crystal-gazer.
He paused and seemed to gather himself together;
his eyes narrowed andhe leered at me. It seems to be a weakness of his,this deafness
to calls.
Since he was sixteen he hasbeen searching his face
for a hair to shave. Most likely theyd have abar in South Africa.
I said, I suppose hell need to take his lunch;
orperhaps he can get lunch over there.
He is going to hunt them in South
Africa!
No, sir, he replied, shaking his head, not a drop
of it left in theplace.
That crouch ready to spring and tear one limb from
limb withtheir claws! I should not have been at all surprised if he hadjumped up on
me and barked.
Well, Mister Gudgeon; how are y this mornin?
|
[Prev in Thread] | Current Thread | [Next in Thread] |