|
THE PLANET WRECKERS 1 I n his shabby room in t he formerly elegant host elry known as t he Grand At umpquah Palace, Jack Waverly pulled t he coarse weave sheet up about his ears and composed himself for sleep. Somewhere, a voice whispered. Somewhere, boards creaked. Wind mut t ered around t he loosely fit t ed window, rat t ling it in it s frame. The pulled- down blind clacked rest lessly. I n t he room above, foot st eps went t hree paces; clank; back t hree paces; clank . . . Drat t he fellow, Waverly t hought . Why doesn' t he st op rat t ling his chains and go t o bed? He t urned on his ot her side, rearranged t he pillow of t he consist ency of bagged sawdust . Beyond t he part it ion, someone was whist ling a st range, unmelodic t une. I t was hot in t he room. The sheet chafed his neck. Next door, voices mut t ered wit h a not e of urgency. Waverly made out t he words magma and San Andreas fault . "Geology, at t en minut es past midnight ?" he inquired of t he mot t led wallpaper. Above, |
插件设计: zasq.net
本帖子中包含更多资源
您需要 登录 才可以下载或查看,没有帐号?立即注册
x
|