Descriptive rhetorical sneaky
He reached into his left pocket. It was filled with a glorious emptiness. He felt a weight of some long tons of lifting from his shoulders. Here we are, Marilyn said. It was just after first sunset, and the kids were squealing around the ecologarium. Then one little girl I didnt even recognise ran up to me and jerked my arm. "Da, oh, da! Come look! The ani-worts are just about to— " "What is this business about slow reading?" Miss Hanks asked. "I dont understand it at all." What are we looking for? I asked, searching the portable oven. The food was delivered shortly after the mealtime hubbub began. He ate slowly, then sat planning strategy through a pipeful of Navy Cut. Given the late hour of their arrival at Kennetts Crossing, and if Dupree was in fact bound for Noah Rideout’s Schyler Island farm, it seemed probable that she would be met at the landing by Rideout or one of his minions. There was an inn there, but it was as primitive as the rest of the little backwater hamlet — not the sort of place a woman like her would find comfortable even for part of a night if it could be avoided. I sought MCwyie from the corner of my eye. She raised her right hand. Oh, yes, I do; really. Honey, wheres that book I was reading last night? SECOND YEAR COURSE: by Lawrence Block descriptive rhetorical sneaky Then he went back to the house. There were about twenty baffles, throwing off an unending chorus ofYes, H. L., “Thanks, H. L.,” “Brilliant, H. L.” Two or three seemed strangely quiet, and he drew Madame Gioconda over to them. We arrived in the green courtyard of the palace. On the other side of the wall I heard the rush of a waterfall into a pool. The palace was half old German mansion, half modern Teutonic, with vulgar marble statues all over the place— supermen on super-horses. Thats the nearest theyd got to the master-race, so far. A white haired old man led the jackbooted party which met us. Decadence, he murmured. Decadence, thats what it is.” Hejar sniffed the air. His nostrils, finely attuned to the necessities of his calling, could pick out death like hollyhock or new-made bread. Yes, it was there, dank and acrid as stale perspiration..
