Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Mistress of the Art of Death by Ariana Franklin

Page 45:

The listener crossed himself and climbed higher, picking his way with infinite care. Unseen, he passed the Arab, another piece of statuary in the moonlight. Finally he had reached a point from which to look down on the cart, its lanterns giving it the appearance of a glowing opal on black velvet.

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