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Updated: August 17, 2024
They hurried from the room and went streaming up the ascent tube to the top of the dome. About forty miles away, to the south, Verkan Vall saw the sinister thing that he had seen on so many other time-lines, in so many other paratime sectors a great pillar of varicolored fire-shot smoke, rising to a mushroom head fifty thousand feet above. "Well, that's it," Klarnood said sadly.
There, between the blaze and the tree under which John Barrow was sleeping, crouched a wildcat, a large, fierce-looking creature, with fire-shot eyes and a stubby tail which was moving noiselessly from side by side, as the creature prepared itself to make a leap. "Gracious! he's going to attack Mr.
The storm raged all night, but when the dawn came it was spent. Anne saw a fairy fringe of light on the skirts of darkness. Soon the eastern hilltops had a fire-shot ruby rim. The clouds rolled themselves away into great, soft, white masses on the horizon; the sky gleamed blue and silvery. A hush fell over the world. Anne rose from her knees and crept downstairs.
When Marion came in she halted at the door and turned out all the lamps save the candlesticks on the table. She passed through the amber, fire-shot twilight and sat down in the other armchair, and began to polish her nails on the palm of her hands. They were all of them lapped in dusk, veiled with it, featureless because of it.
Vesuvius, for example, is grand and beautiful, its smell of underground railway most impressive, its night effect stupendous, but the glowing cinder heaps of Burslem, the wonders of the Black Country sunset, the wonderful fire-shot nightfall of the Five Towns, these things are horrid and offensive and vulgar beyond the powers of scholastic language.
You can't get a woman's name mixed up with a cheap brawl such as you are trying to start. You know, it won't do." Alan Massey's white face turned a shade whiter. His arm fell. He turned back to Tony, real anguish in his fire-shot eyes. "I beg your pardon, Tony dearest," he bent over to say. "Carson is right. We'll fight it out elsewhere when you are not present. May I take you to the taxi?
For fickle is Annadoah fickle, fickle the heart of the maiden Annadoah!" Ootah shrieked an enraged defiance. His eyes sought the horizon. Kokoyah, the sea god, was breathing deeply, and in the mists which rose like fire-shot smoke before the sun, singular forms took shape. Ootah saw the magnified shadows of great dogs. They seemed to be dashing along the horizon.
The tow-rope had stretched, sung, snapped, and again, in fire-shot delirium, she had gone rocking down hill. He drove up beside her, got out, stood at her elbow. His "I'm a bum inventor. We'll try somethin' else" was so careless that, in her nerve-twanging exhaustion she wailed, "Oh, don't be so beastly cheerful! You don't care a bit!"
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