[Solar-OpenOffice] Ecause you 're under arrest." "Vat dot you sa
Luckett
duchess at metzpoint.nl
Thu Aug 27 20:50:39 CEST 2009
There were nine altogether in the party registering. This number
included the manager, who, both on and off the stage, quite successfully
impersonated the villain--a rather heavy-jawed, middle-aged fellow, of
foreign appearance, with coarse, gruff voice; three representatives of
the gentler sex; a child of eight, exact species unknown, wrapped up
like a mummy; and four males. Beyond doubt the most notable member of
the troupe was the comedian "star," Mr. T. Macready Lane, whose
well-known cognomen must even now awaken happy histrionic memories
throughout the western circuit. The long night's ride from their
previous stand, involving as it did two changes of trains, had proven
exceedingly wearisome; and the young woman in the rather natty blue
toque, the collar of her long gray coat turned up in partial concealment
of her face, was so utterly fatigued that she refused to wait for a
belated breakfast, and insisted upon being at once directed to her room.
There was a substantial bolt decorating the inside of the door, but,
rendered careless by sheer exhaustion of both mind and body, she forgot
everything except her desire for immediate rest, dropped her wraps upon
the only chair visible, and flung herself, fully dressed, upon the bed.
Her cheek had barely pressed the hard pillow before she was sleeping
like a tired child. It must have been an hour later when Winston drove
in from Flat Rock, shook the powdery snow from off his long fur
overcoat, his cheeks still tingling from the sharp wind, and, with
fingers yet stiffened by cold, wrote his name carelessly across the
lower line of the dilapidated hotel register. "Can you let me have the
same room, Tom?" he questioned familiarly of the man ornamenting the
high stool behind the desk. The latter, busy with some figures, nodded
carelessly, and the last arrival promptly picked up his valise from the
floor and began climbing the stairs, whistling softly. He was a
long-limbed, broad-chested young fellow, with clean-shaven face, and a
pair of dark-gray eyes that looked straight ahead of him; and he ran up
the somewhat steep steps as though finding such exercise a pleasure.
Rounding the upper railing, he stopped abruptly before Number
Twenty-seven, flung open the door, took a single step within, and c
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