Books > Old Books > Midnight Tales (1946)


Page 134

AUGUST HEAT

bald. He stood in the dock, his short, clumsy fingers clasping the rail, looking straight in front of him. The feeling that his expression conveyed was not so much one of horror as of utter, absolute collapse.
There seemed nothing in the man strong enough to sustain that mountain of flesh.
I rolled up the sketch, and without quite knowing why, placed it in my pocket. Then with the rare sense of happiness which the knowledge of a good thing well done gives, I left the house.
I believe that I set out with the idea of calling upon Trenton, for I remember walking along Lytton Street and turning to the right along Gilchrist Road at the bottom of the hill where the men were at work on the new tram lines.
From there onwards I have only the vaguest recollection of where I went. The one thing of which I was fully conscious was the awful heat, that came up from the dusty asphalt pavement as an almost palpable wave. I longed for the thunder promised by the great banks of copper-coloured cloud that hung low over the western sky.
I must have walked five or six miles, when a small boy roused me from my reverie by asking the time. It was twenty minutes to seven.
When he left me I began to take stock of my bearings. I found myself standing before a gate that led into a yard bordered by a strip of thirsty earth, where there were flowers, purple stock and scarlet geranium. Above the entrance was a board with the inscription:
CHS. ATKINSON. MONUMENTAL MASON.
WORKER IN ENGLISH AND ITALIAN MARBLES.
From the yard itself came a cheery whistle, the noise of hammer blows, and the cold sound of steel meeting stone.
A sudden impulse made me enter.
A man was sitting with his back towards me, busy at work on a slab of curiously veined marble. He turned round as he heard my steps and I stopped short.

travel books:
where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE bald. He stood in what is dock, his short, clumsy fingers clasping what is rail, looking straight in front of him. what is feeling that his expression conveyed was not so much one of horror as of utter, absolute collapse. There seemed nothing in what is man strong enough to sustain that mountain of flesh. I rolled up what is sketch, and without quite knowing why, placed it in my pocket. Then with what is rare sense of happiness which what is knowledge of a good thing well done gives, I left what is house. I believe that I set out with what is idea of calling upon Trenton, for I remember walking along Lytton Street and turning to what is right along Gilchrist Road at what is bottom of what is hill where what is men were at work on what is new tram lines. From there onwards I have only what is vaguest recollection of where I went. what is one thing of which I was fully conscious was what is awful heat, that came up from what is dusty asphalt pavement as an almost palpable wave. I longed for what is thunder promised by what is great banks of copper-coloured cloud that hung low over what is western sky. I must have walked five or six miles, when a small boy roused me from my reverie by asking what is time. It was twenty minutes to seven. When he left me I began to take stock of my bearings. I found myself standing before a gate that led into a yard bordered by a strip of thirsty earth, where there were flowers, purple stock and scarlet geranium. Above what is entrance was a board with what is inscription: CHS. ATKINSON. MONUMENTAL MASON. WORKER IN ENGLISH AND ITALIAN MARBLES. From what is yard itself came a cheery whistle, what is noise of hammer blows, and what is cold sound of steel meeting stone. A sudden impulse made me enter. A man was sitting with his back towards me, busy at work on a slab of curiously veined marble. He turned round as he heard my steps and I stopped short. where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Midnight Tales (1946) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 134 where is p align="center" where is strong AUGUST HEAT where is p align="justify" bald. He stood in what is dock, his short, clumsy fingers clasping what is rail, looking straight in front of him. The feeling that his expression conveyed was not so much one of horror as of utter, absolute collapse. There seemed nothing in what is man strong enough to sustain that mountain of flesh. I rolled up what is sketch, and without quite knowing why, placed it in my pocket. Then with what is rare sense of happiness which what is knowledge of a good thing well done gives, I left what is house. I believe that I set out with what is idea of calling upon Trenton, for I remember walking along Lytton Street and turning to what is right along Gilchrist Road at what is bottom of what is hill where what is men were at work on what is new tram lines. From there onwards I have only what is vaguest recollection of where I went. what is one thing of which I was fully conscious was what is awful heat, that came up from what is dusty asphalt pavement as an almost palpable wave. I longed for what is thunder promised by what is great banks of copper-coloured cloud that hung low over what is western sky. I must have walked five or six miles, when a small boy roused me from my reverie by asking what is time. It was twenty minutes to seven. When he left me I began to take stock of my bearings. I found myself standing before a gate that led into a yard bordered by a strip of thirsty earth, where there were flowers, purple stock and scarlet geranium. Above what is entrance was a board with what is inscription: CHS. ATKINSON. MONUMENTAL MASON. WORKER IN ENGLISH AND ITALIAN MARBLES. From what is yard itself came a cheery whistle, what is noise of hammer blows, and what is cold sound of steel meeting stone. A sudden impulse made me enter. A man was sitting with his back towards me, busy at work on a slab of curiously veined marble. He turned round as he heard my steps and I stopped short. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Midnight Tales (1946) books

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