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PostWysłany: Pią 12:50, 18 Lut 2011    Temat postu: And is life really its own reward

And is life really its own reward? He wondered. When his pipe had
burned itself to its stinking conclusion he took a drink of gin and went to
bed. In ten minutes he was deeply
innocently asleep.
Denis had mechanically undressed and
clad in those flowered silk
pyjamas of which he was so justly proud
was lying face downwards on
CROME YELLOW
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his bed. Time passed. When at last he looked up
the candle which he
had left alight at his bedside had burned down almost to the socket. He
looked at his watch; it was nearly half-past one. His head ached
his dry
sleepless eyes felt as though they had been bruised from behind
and the
blood was beating within his ears a loud arterial drum. He got up
opened the door
tiptoed noiselessly along the passage
and began to
mount the stairs towards the higher floors. Arrived at the servants'
quarters under the roof
he hesitated
then turning to the right he opened a
little door at the end of the corridor. Within was a pitch- dark cupboard-
like boxroom
hot
stuffy
and smelling of dust and old leather. He
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