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Richard Dowling
Miracle Gold: A Novel (Complete)
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1198168Miracle Gold: A Novel (Complete)https://www.gandhi.com.mx/miracle-gold-a-novel-complete-1/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/343891/29f6c413-2d59-4532-87c8-aa79acb2b85a.jpg?v=6383343250862000009797MXNLibrary of AlexandriaInStock/Ebooks/<p>The 8.45 for London, miss? Just gone. Gone two or three minutes. Its the last train up to town this evening, miss. First in the morning at 6.15, miss. "Gone!" cried the girl in despair. She reached out her hand and caught one of the wooden pillars supporting the roof of the little station at Millway, near the south-east coast of England. "Yes, miss, gone," said the porter. He was inclined to be very civil and communicative, for the last train for London had left, the enquirer seemed in great distress, and she was young and beautiful. "Any luggage, miss? If you have you can leave it in the cloak-room till the first train to-morrow. The first train leaves here at a quarter past six." She did not speak. She looked up and down the platform, with dazed, bewildered eyes. Her lips were drawn back and slightly parted. She still kept her hand on the wooden pillar. She seemed more afraid of becoming weak than in a state of present weakness. The porter, who was young and good-looking, and a very great admirer of female charms, thought the girl was growing faint. He said: "If you like, miss, you can sit down in the waiting-room and rest there." She turned her eyes upon him without appearing to see him, and shook her head in mechanical refusal of his suggestion. She had no fear of fainting. For a moment her mental powers were prostrated, but her physical force was in no danger of giving way. With a start and a shiver, she recovered enough presence of mind to realize her position on the platform, and the appearance she must be making in the eyes of the polite and well-disposed railway porter.</p>...1190258Miracle Gold: A Novel (Complete)9797https://www.gandhi.com.mx/miracle-gold-a-novel-complete-1/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/343891/29f6c413-2d59-4532-87c8-aa79acb2b85a.jpg?v=638334325086200000InStockMXN99999DIEbook20219781465575067_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_<p>The 8.45 for London, miss? Just gone. Gone two or three minutes. Its the last train up to town this evening, miss. First in the morning at 6.15, miss. Gone! cried the girl in despair. She reached out her hand and caught one of the wooden pillars supporting the roof of the little station at Millway, near the south-east coast of England. Yes, miss, gone, said the porter. He was inclined to be very civil and communicative, for the last train for London had left, the enquirer seemed in great distress, and she was young and beautiful. Any luggage, miss? If you have you can leave it in the cloak-room till the first train to-morrow. The first train leaves here at a quarter past six. She did not speak. She looked up and down the platform, with dazed, bewildered eyes. Her lips were drawn back and slightly parted. She still kept her hand on the wooden pillar. She seemed more afraid of becoming weak than in a state of present weakness. The porter, who was young and good-looking, and a very great admirer of female charms, thought the girl was growing faint. He said: If you like, miss, you can sit down in the waiting-room and rest there. She turned her eyes upon him without appearing to see him, and shook her head in mechanical refusal of his suggestion. She had no fear of fainting. For a moment her mental powers were prostrated, but her physical force was in no danger of giving way. With a start and a shiver, she recovered enough presence of mind to realize her position on the platform, and the appearance she must be making in the eyes of the polite and well-disposed railway porter.</p>(*_*)9781465575067_<p>The 8.45 for London, miss? Just gone. Gone two or three minutes. Its the last train up to town this evening, miss. First in the morning at 6.15, miss. "Gone!" cried the girl in despair. She reached out her hand and caught one of the wooden pillars supporting the roof of the little station at Millway, near the south-east coast of England. "Yes, miss, gone," said the porter. He was inclined to be very civil and communicative, for the last train for London had left, the enquirer seemed in great distress, and she was young and beautiful. "Any luggage, miss? If you have you can leave it in the cloak-room till the first train to-morrow. The first train leaves here at a quarter past six." She did not speak. She looked up and down the platform, with dazed, bewildered eyes. Her lips were drawn back and slightly parted. She still kept her hand on the wooden pillar. She seemed more afraid of becoming weak than in a state of present weakness. The porter, who was young and good-looking, and a very great admirer of female charms, thought the girl was growing faint. He said: "If you like, miss, you can sit down in the waiting-room and rest there." She turned her eyes upon him without appearing to see him, and shook her head in mechanical refusal of his suggestion. She had no fear of fainting. For a moment her mental powers were prostrated, but her physical force was in no danger of giving way. With a start and a shiver, she recovered enough presence of mind to realize her position on the platform, and the appearance she must be making in the eyes of the polite and well-disposed railway porter.</p>...9781465575067_Library of Alexandrialibro_electonico_73663398-efb9-3d5e-9152-36ebb0ffd809_9781465575067;9781465575067_9781465575067Richard DowlingInglésMéxicohttps://getbook.kobo.com/koboid-prod-public/markmoxford-epub-ea67424b-ca0b-4478-864a-b4d8d822eab1.epub2021-02-24T00:00:00+00:00Library of Alexandria