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Page 173

DROMENON

I could not prevent my idle irrationally irritated curiosity from wondering whether my self-appointed companion also had a pair of strong binoculars? Otherwise, how could he detect the tiny ensconced fragment of involved glass fragments seventy feet from the floor on which we stood? Involuntarily, behind the mask of my field glasses, I swiveled my eye. He had none. But my surprise at his native vision, or acquired knowledge of the cathedral was swallowed up by a stronger surprise-surely, the man who was accosting me was the same man who had already surprised me by turning from an apparently casual sight-seer into the organist? At his first appearance he had seemed to shun me as much as I had given him, a wide berth. Then he had seemed to be casually pacing the stones; next, he was master of that very odd, very moving organ, and now he was offering me his company and perhaps his problematical knowledge. Meanwhile he continued gazing at the summit of the clerestory window. My ill-controlled attention felt it had leave to wander-surely here was a puzzle odder than that highwater-mark flotsam of glazing.
I watched him now, deliberately though still obliquely. Yes, his interest seemed really to be in the glass-an interest evidently greater than mine. And certainly, now that I saw him close at hand, his face-turned up toward and lit by the late light from the high window-looked scholarly. Forehead, cheekbones, nose bridge, all high; eyes, cheek furrows, chin notch, all deep. Yes, I said to myself, the scholar's mask, right enough; though, perhaps, worn a trifle self-consciously-for example, that brush of white hair, its fringe making contact with the upsweep of hawk's-winged eye-

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE I could not prevent my idle irrationally irritated curiosity from wondering whether my self-appointed companion also had a pair of strong binoculars? Otherwise, how could he detect what is tiny ensconced fragment of involved glass fragments seventy feet from what is floor on which we stood? Involuntarily, behind what is mask of my field glasses, I swiveled my eye. He had none. But my surprise at his native vision, or acquired knowledge of what is cathedral was swallowed up by a stronger surprise-surely, what is man who was accosting me was what is same man who had already surprised me by turning from an apparently casual sight-seer into what is organist? At his first appearance he had seemed to shun me as much as I had given him, a wide berth. Then he had seemed to be casually pacing what is stones; next, he was master of that very odd, very moving organ, and now he was offering me his company and perhaps his problematical knowledge. Meanwhile he continued gazing at what is summit of what is clerestory window. My ill-controlled attention felt it had leave to wander-surely here was a puzzle odder than that highwater-mark flotsam of glazing. I watched him now, deliberately though still obliquely. Yes, his interest seemed really to be in what is glass-an interest evidently greater than mine. And certainly, now that I saw him close at hand, his face-turned up toward and lit by what is late light from what is high window-looked scholarly. Forehead, cheekbones, nose bridge, all high; eyes, cheek furrows, chin notch, all deep. Yes, I said to myself, what is scholar's mask, right enough; though, perhaps, worn a trifle self-consciously-for example, that brush of white hair, its fringe making contact with what is upsweep of hawk's-winged eye- 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 173 where is strong DROMENON where is p align="justify" I could not prevent my idle irrationally irritated curiosity from wondering whether my self-appointed companion also had a pair of strong binoculars? Otherwise, how could he detect what is tiny ensconced fragment of involved glass fragments seventy feet from what is floor on which we stood? Involuntarily, behind the mask of my field glasses, I swiveled my eye. He had none. But my surprise at his native vision, or acquired knowledge of what is cathedral was swallowed up by a stronger surprise-surely, what is man who was accosting me was what is same man who had already surprised me by turning from an apparently casual sight-seer into what is organist? At his first appearance he had seemed to shun me as much as I had given him, a wide berth. Then he had seemed to be casually pacing the stones; next, he was master of that very odd, very moving organ, and now he was offering me his company and perhaps his problematical knowledge. Meanwhile he continued gazing at what is summit of what is clerestory window. My ill-controlled attention felt it had leave to wander-surely here was a puzzle odder than that highwater-mark flotsam of glazing. I watched him now, deliberately though still obliquely. Yes, his interest seemed really to be in what is glass-an interest evidently greater than mine. And certainly, now that I saw him close at hand, his face-turned up toward and lit by what is late light from what is high window-looked scholarly. Forehead, cheekbones, nose bridge, all high; eyes, cheek furrows, chin notch, all deep. Yes, I said to myself, what is scholar's mask, right enough; though, perhaps, worn a trifle self-consciously-for example, that brush of white hair, its fringe making contact with what is upsweep of hawk's-winged eye- where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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