Arthur Conan Doyle Quotes
It Was A September Evening, And Not Yet Seven O'clock, But The Day Had Been A Dreary One, And A Dense Drizzly Fog Lay Low Upon The Great City. Mud-colored Clouds Drooped Sadly Over The Muddy Streets. Down The Strand The Lamps Were But Misty Splotches Of Diffused Light Which Threw A Feeble Circular Glimmer Upon The Slimy Pavement. The Yellow Glare From The Shop-windows Streamed Out Into The Steamy, Vaporous Air, And Threw A Murky, Shifting Radiance Across The Crowded Thoroughfare.
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