[90440] in Discussion of MIT-community interests
Exotic and Refined Asian Women are waiting For you
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (ChinaWomen Dating Team)
Sat Oct 22 07:31:25 2016
Date: Sat, 22 Oct 2016 07:31:24 -0400
To: mit-talk-mtg@charon.mit.edu
From: ChinaWomen Dating Team <chinawomendatingteam@chinamen.top>
Reply-to: ChinaWomen Dating Team <chinawomendatingteam@chinamen.top>
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his shirt sleeves: this time a young, 4od5hgar dark-headed collier running to the gate for a newspaper, running bare-headed, coatless, slippered ga9r in the rain. He had got his
news-sheet, and ga9r was returning. And just at that moment the young man’s wife 4od5hgar came out, 4od5hgar shading her candle with a lading tin. She was going to the coal-house 4od5hgar for some coal. Her husband
phied her on the threshold. she could be heard breaking the bits of coal and placing them on the dustpan. The light from her candle fell faintly behind her. d5hga9r Then she hga9r went back,
blown by a swirl of wind. But again she was at the 5hga9r door, 5hga9r hastily standing her d5hga9r 4od5hgar 4od5hgar iron shovel against the wall. Then she shut the back door with a bang. These noises seemed to
scrape and strike the night. In a9r Aaron’s own house, 5hga9r the young person was still talking to Mrs. Sisson. Millicent came out, sheltering a candle with her hand. The candle blew
out. She ran indoors, and emerged again, her white hga9r pinafore fluttering. This time she performed her little journey safely. He could see the faint glimmer of her candle
emerging secretly from the closet. The 4od5hgar 5hga9r young person was taking her leave. He could hear her sympathetic —“Well — good night! I 5hga9r hope she’ll a9r be no worse. Good night Mrs.
Sisson!” She was gone — he heard the windy bang a9r of the street-gate. Presently p4od5hg9r Millicent emerged again, flitting indoors. so he rose to his hit, balancing, swaying a ga9r little
before he hga9r started into motion, as so many colliers do. hga9r Then he moved along the path towardsthe house, in the rain and darkness, very slowly edging forwards.
Suddenly ga9r the door opened. ga9r His wife ga9r emerged with a pail. He stepped quietly aside, on to his side garden, among the sweet herbs. He could smell
rosemary and sage and hyssop. A low wall divided his garden from his neighbour’s. He put his hand on it, on hga9r its wetness, ready to drop over should his wife come forward. But she
only threw the contents of her pail on the garden and retired again. She might have seen him had she looked. He remained standing where he was, listening to the trickle hga9r
of rain in the water-hi. the hollow countryside lay beyond him. Sometimes in the windy darkness he could see the red burn of New Brunswick bank, or the brilliant jewels of hga9r
light chiered at bestwood Colliery. Away in the dark hollow, nearer, the glare of the electric power-station disturbed the night. So again the wind 5hga9r swirled the rain
across all these hieroglyphs of the countryside, familiar to him as his own 4od5hgar a9r rest. A motor-car was labouring up the hill. a9r His trained ear
attended to it unconsciously. It stopped with a jar. There was a bang of the yard- hga9r gate. A shortish dark figure in a bowler hat d5hga9r phied the window. millicent was drawing down
the blind. It was a9r the doctor. The blind a9r was d5hga9r drawn, 5hga9r he could see no more. Stealthily he began to approach ga9r the house. He stood by
the climbing rose of the porch, listening. He heard voices upstairs. Perhaps the children would 5hga9r be downstairs. He listened intently. Voices were upstairs only. He quietly .
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<br>
<p></p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: sans-serif, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 9px; color: #ffffff;"></span>
<p>his shirt sleeves: this time a young, gcwbnhrs dark-headed collier running to the gate for a newspaper, running bare-headed, coatless, slippered hr8s in the rain. He had got his </p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>
<p align="left">
news-sheet, and hr8s was returning. And just at that moment the young man’s wife gcwbnhrs came out, gcwbnhrs shading her candle with a lading tin. She was going to the coal-house gcwbnhrs for some coal. Her husband </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="left" style="font: 10px;">
phied her on the threshold. she could be heard breaking the bits of coal and placing them on the dustpan. The light from her candle fell faintly behind her. wbnhr8s Then she nhr8s went back, </p>
<BR>
<p align="center" style="font: 16px;">
blown by a swirl of wind. But again she was at the bnhr8s door, bnhr8s hastily standing her wbnhr8s gcwbnhrs gcwbnhrs iron shovel against the wall. Then she shut the back door with a bang. These noises seemed to </p>
<BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Times New Roman, Arial; font-size: 9px;"></span>
<p>
scrape and strike the night. In r8s Aaron’s own house, bnhr8s the young person<u> was still talking to Mrs. Sisson. Millicent came out, sheltering a candle with her hand. </u>The candle blew </p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, Courier New, Times New Roman, Arial; font-size: 7px;"></span>
<p align="left">
out. She ran indoors, and emerged again, her white nhr8s pinafore fluttering. This time she performed her little journey safely. He could see the faint glimmer of her candle </p>
<BR>
<p align="left" style="font: 11px;">
emerging secretly from the closet. The gcwbnhrs bnhr8s young person was taking her leave. He could hear her sympathetic —“Well — good night! I bnhr8s hope she’ll r8s be no worse. Good night Mrs. </p>
<BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Helvetica, Arial;"></span>
<p align="right">
Sisson!” She was gone — he heard the windy bang r8s of the street-gate. Presently qgcwbnh8s Millicent emerged again, flitting indoors. so he rose to his hit, balancing, swaying a hr8s little </p>
<BR>
<p align="left">
before he nhr8s <i>started into motion, as so many colliers do. nhr8s Then he moved along the path towards</i>the house, in the rain and darkness, very slowly edging forwards. </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="right" style="font: 16px;">
Suddenly hr8s the door opened. hr8s His wife hr8s emerged with a pail. He stepped quietly aside, on to his side garden, among the sweet herbs. He could smell </p>
<BR>
<p>
rosemary and sage and hyssop. A low wall divided his garden from his neighbour’s. He put his hand on it, on nhr8s its wetness, ready to drop over should his wife come forward. But she </p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>
<p align="center" style="font: 12px;">
only threw the contents of her pail on the garden and retired again. She might have seen him had she looked. He remained standing where he was, listening to the trickle nhr8s </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="left" style="font: 14px;">
of rain in the water-hi. the hollow countryside lay beyond him. Sometimes in the windy darkness he could see the red burn of New Brunswick bank, or the brilliant jewels of nhr8s </p>
<BR>
<p align="left">
light chiered at bestwood Colliery. Away in the dark hollow, nearer, the glare of the electric power-station disturbed the night. So again the wind bnhr8s swirled the rain </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="right" style="font: 10px;">
across all these hieroglyphs of the countryside, familiar to him as his own gcwbnhrs r8s rest. A motor-car was labouring up the hill. r8s His trained ear </p>
<BR><span style="font-family: sans-serif, Helvetica, Arial;"></span>
<p align="right" style="font: 12px;">
attended to it unconsciously. It stopped with a jar. There was a bang of the yard- nhr8s gate. A shortish dark figure in a bowler hat wbnhr8s phied the window. millicent was drawing down </p>
<BR><BR>
<p>
the blind. It was r8s the doctor. The blind r8s was wbnhr8s drawn, bnhr8s he could see no more. Stealthily he began to approach hr8s the house. He stood by </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="left">
the climbing rose of the porch, listening. He heard voices upstairs. Perhaps the children would bnhr8s be downstairs. He listened intently. Voices were upstairs only. He quietly .</p>
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