He looked round for his gun, but in place of the clean well-oiled fowing-piece, he found an old firelock lying by him, the barrel encrusted with rust, the lock falling off, and the stock worm-eaten.
The music-publisher had been unstinted in his praise.
So I am to dethrone my Intellect and set Emotion in its place. Is that it?
How's that for Apples my little quran thumping goose stepping little wanna be terrorist?
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
★★★★★★★★★★