|
||||||||
The youth turned, with sudden, livid rage, toward the battle field. He shook his fist. He seemed about to deliver a philippic. Hell The red sun was pasted in the sky like a wafer. |
||||||||
|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Copyright: All texts on Bibliomania are © Bibliomania.com Ltd, and may not be reproduced in any form without our written permission. See our FAQ for more details. | ||||||||