Vietnam or Thailand? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week!
Want to type faster? Practice with a typing test or have fun with typing games!
Updated: October 2, 2026
Low she bent above me, her dusky hair a cloud that choked me, and through this cloud the glitter of her eyes, red lips that curled back from snapping teeth, fingers clawed to rend and tear; then as I gazed, in horror, these eyes grew soft and languorous, these vivid lips trembled to wistful smile, these cruel hands clasped, soft-clinging, and drew me near and ever nearer towards that smiling, tender mouth, until I waked in a panic to behold the dawn and against the sun's growing splendour the woman standing and holding my pistols levelled at me as I lay.
And this delusion of permanence, the enclosing soft-clinging darkness served to heighten. The passage of time itself seemed arrested to-morrow becoming an abstraction, remote and improbable, which could, with impunity, be left out of the count. With this fantastic state of things, Faircloth had no quarrel.