Books > Old Books > The Great Fog (1943)


Page 65

WINGLESS VICTORY

ered it was a cloak, beautifully light in weight, more delicate than silk to the touch, smelling of musk, pale gray in color, and woven in some strange way out of small feathers. I have never worn any kind of garment which seemed less like something one puts on and more like something that grows as naturally as one's hair out of one's skin. The contrast of the change, from my coarse stiff wrappings that were fettering my cleansed body into this cloak, gave me a feeling almost as delicious as I had when I had first plunged into the rock pool. I'd hardly thrown the robe around myself before the guide twirled about, then made that sweep with his head and stumped off ahead of me.
" One thing, at least, was now clear: I wasn't being treated as a captive. Indeed, so great was this-this people's courtesy that I wasn't even being treated as a curiosity-though I could imagine the kind of attention a huge, misshapen, feathered man would arouse if led on foot through the main street of one of our hamlets. As I went down the street I saw plenty of these strange beings about, but none-save an occasional chick or two-even turned its head as I passed. Of course, whether their features showed surprise or humor I couldn't then judge. A bird's bill is just the most pointed opposite of what novelists call their heroine's lips-tremulous, liquid and all that.
" I didn't, however, then have much time to think over this. For within a few hundred yards I'd been brought to a hut twice the size of any of the others, which ended this small street or lane. It had two steps in front of it and a high doorway, but again no door. We passed over the threshold, and, in the dusk within, I saw that a sort of court was sitting. My

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE ered it was a cloak, beautifully light in weight, more delicate than silk to what is touch, smelling of musk, pale gray in color, and woven in some strange way out of small feathers. I have never worn any kind of garment which seemed less like something one puts on and more like something that grows as naturally as one's hair out of one's skin. what is contrast of what is change, from my coarse stiff wrappings that were fettering my cleansed body into this cloak, gave me a feeling almost as delicious as I had when I had first plunged into what is rock pool. I'd hardly thrown what is robe around myself before what is guide twirled about, then made that sweep with his head and stumped off ahead of me. "One thing, at least, was now clear: I wasn't being treated as a captive. Indeed, so great was this-this people's courtesy that I wasn't even being treated as a curiosity-though I could imagine what is kind of attention a huge, misshapen, feathered man would arouse if led on foot through what is main street of one of our hamlets. As I went down what is street I saw plenty of these strange beings about, but none-save an occasional chick or two-even turned its head as I passed. Of course, whether their features showed surprise or humor I couldn't then judge. A bird's bill is just what is most pointed opposite of what novelists call their heroine's lips-tremulous, liquid and all that. "I didn't, however, then have much time to think over this. For within a few hundred yards I'd been brought to a hut twice what is size of any of what is others, which ended this small street or lane. It had two steps in front of it and a high doorway, but again no door. We passed over what is threshold, and, in what is dusk within, I saw that a sort of court was sitting. My 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" The Great Fog (1943) 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 65 where is strong WINGLESS VICTORY where is p align="justify" ered it was a cloak, beautifully light in weight, more delicate than silk to what is touch, smelling of musk, pale gray in color, and woven in some strange way out of small feathers. I have never worn any kind of garment which seemed less like something one puts on and more like something that grows as naturally as one's hair out of one's skin. what is contrast of what is change, from my coarse stiff wrappings that were fettering my cleansed body into this cloak, gave me a feeling almost as delicious as I had when I had first plunged into what is rock pool. I'd hardly thrown what is robe around myself before what is guide twirled about, then made that sweep with his head and stumped off ahead of me. " One thing, at least, was now clear: I wasn't being treated as a captive. Indeed, so great was this-this people's courtesy that I wasn't even being treated as a curiosity-though I could imagine what is kind of attention a huge, misshapen, feathered man would arouse if led on foot through what is main street of one of our hamlets. As I went down what is street I saw plenty of these strange beings about, but none-save an occasional chick or two-even turned its head as I passed. Of course, whether their features showed surprise or humor I couldn't then judge. A bird's bill is just what is most pointed opposite of what novelists call their heroine's lips-tremulous, liquid and all that. " I didn't, however, then have much time to think over this. For within a few hundred yards I'd been brought to a hut twice the size of any of what is others, which ended this small street or lane. It had two steps in front of it and a high doorway, but again no door. We passed over what is threshold, and, in what is dusk within, I saw that a sort of court was sitting. My where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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