Page "fiction" Paragraph 637
from
Brown Corpus
I stiffened.
Honest I could feel the hair stand up on the back of my neck like a dog's that is going to get into a fight.
I turned around with the percolator in my hand.
My eyes were so bleary I could barely see him but there he was, a little smooth olivefaced guy in a new spring overcoat and a taffycolored fedora.
Brown eyes, eyebrow mustache.
Oval face without an expression in the world.
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