United States or Heard Island and McDonald Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Haskins, I hope you are not wrong about this. I sincerely hope that." "I do too, sir," Haskins admitted, feeling his knees begin to shake. "Because if you are," Rath said, "I will ... Never mind. Let's go!" By police escort, they arrived at the address in fifteen minutes. It was an ancient brownstone and Magnessen's name was on a second-floor door. They knocked.
It was a gentle, misty spring day and the air held the smell of rain and blossoming-dogwood. Caswell gripped the revolver in his sweaty right hand and tried to think of a single valid reason why he should not kill a man named Magnessen, who, the other day, had commented on how well Caswell looked. What business was it of Magnessen's how he looked?
You fiend incarnate! You inhuman, hideous monster! Someone must destroy you, Magnessen! Someone.... Someone? He himself would have to do it. Only he knew the bottomless depths of Magnessen's depravity, his viciousness, his disgusting lust for power. Yes, it was his duty, Caswell thought. But strangely, the knowledge brought him no pleasure. After all, Magnessen was his friend.
Word Of The Day