The storm lulled.
Lashed to the chassis with wire, the tailpipe coughed gray sootballs that laid a low, semisweet cloud for half a mile behind.
At the Wilkeshire Club a large number of hunters had arrived. . . . [A] splendid pack of hounds was held by the huntsman while they debated whether to hold a paper chase or to try a drag hunt.
I wouldn't even want to be seen dead with those nerds of the bowl-cut brigade.
アカウントを持っていませんか? 新規登録
アカウントを持っていますか? ログイン
DiQt(ディクト)
無料
★★★★★★★★★★