“What do you want to go out here for, Lucy?” He 217 asked. “Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. “Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. He warned her that it drove most men mad and that the process for choosing another to become a vampire was lengthy and protracted with good reason. To be free of outward distraction, he shut his eyes and concentrated upon the scraps she had given him; and shortly, with his eyes still closed, he began to describe Ruth's island: the mountain at one end, with the ever-recurring scarves of mist drifting across the lava-scarred face; the jungle at the foot of it; the dazzling border of white sand; the sprawling store of the trader and the rotting wharf, sundrily patched with drift-wood; the native huts on the sandy floor of the palm groves; the scattered sandalwood and ebony; the screaming parakeets in the plantains; the fishing proas; the mission with its white washed walls and barren frontage; the lagoon, fringed with coco palms, now ruffled emerald, now placid sapphire.
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This video was uploaded to tructiepcauthongthuongde.org on 18-09-2024 13:13:44
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