第11章

pastday, therealstrongrooms,therealexpresssentafterhim,andthereal messagereturned,wouldallbethere.Outofthemidstofthem, theghostlyfacewouldrise,andhewouldaccostitagain. “Buriedhowlong?” “Almosteighteenyears.” “Ihopeyoucaretolive?” “Ican’tsay.” Digdigdiguntilanimpatientmovementfromoneofthe twopassengerswouldadmonishhimtopullupthewindow,draw hisarmsecurelythroughtheleathernstrap,andspeculateupon thetwoslumberingforms,untilhismindlostitsholdofthem,and theyagainslidawayintothebankandthegrave. CharlesDickensElecBookClassics “Buriedhowlong?” “Almosteighteenyears.” “Youhadabandonedallhopeofbeingdugout?” “Longago.” Thewordswerestillinhishearingasjustspokendistinctlyin hishea