The Time Machine
The Time Traveller (for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was expounding a recondite matter to us. His pale grey eyes shone and twinkled, and his usually pale face was flushed and animated. The fire burnt brightly, and the soft radiance of the incandescent lights in the lilies of silver caught the bubbles that flashed and passed in our glasses. Our chairs, being his patents, embraced and caressed us rather than submitted to be sat upon, and there was that luxurious after-dinner atmosphere, when thought runs gracefully free of the trammels of precision. And he put it to us in this way― marking the points with a lean forefinger―as we sat and lazily admired his earnestness over this new paradox (as we thought it) and his fecundity.Ürünün baskısı görseldeki ile farklılık gösterebilir.
Yazar | H. G. Wells |
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Almanca Fransızca Pretty Planners 2019-2020 Türkçe Forgotten Books Leopold Classic Library Independently published CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform Emily Grace İtalyanca İspanyolca H. G. Wells İngilizce Dream Darling Journals GRIN Verlag Lina Scatia Alpha Editions Kolektif
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Yazar The Time Machine | H. G. Wells |
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