Practice Typing
The Hound of the Baskervilles - Doyle, Arthur Conan ยท 71 words
There was a thin, crisp, continuous patter from somewhere in the heart of that crawling bank. The cloud was within fifty yards of where we lay, and we glared at it, all three, uncertain what horror was about to break from the heart of it. I was at Holmess elbow, and I glanced for an instant at his face. It was pale and exultant, his eyes shining brightly in the moonlight.
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