Thursday, May 15, 2008

canvas painting

canvas painting
Knowing that Bunting would be out for at least an hour, for he was a gregarious soul, and liked to have a gossip in the shops he frequented, Mrs. Bunting rose and dressed in a leisurely manner; then she went and "did" her front sitting-room.
She felt languid and dull, as one is apt to feel after a broken night, and it was a comfort to her to know that Mr. Sleuth was not likely to ring before twelve.
But long before twelve a loud ring suddenly clanged through the quiet l1ouse. She knew it for the front door bell.
Mrs. Bunting frowned. No doubt the ring betokened one of those tiresome people who come round for old, bottles and such-like fal-lals.
She went slowly, reluctantly to the door. And then her face cleared, for it was that good young chap, Joe Chandler, who stood waiting outside.
He was breathing a little hard, as if he had walked over-quickly through the moist, foggy air.

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