It was lean that brought me lunch - and only he approached, with the tea service, I felt as soon as

Here it is, simply, no sentences and without ornaments, round table pizza south lake tahoe the sad story of Korriscosso poet. Of all the lyric poets that have news, this is certainly the most unfortunate. I met him in London, Charing Cross hotel, regelada early hours of December. I had arrived on the continent, prostrate for two hours of English Channel .... - Ah! that sea! And it was only a fresh breeze of northwest: but there, on the deck, under a tarpaulin cover that a sailor had me covered, as if covering a dead body, whipped snow and vague, overwhelmed by that tumultuous darkness that the packet was breaking the snoring and stumbling - it seemed to me a typhoon of China seas.
As I entered the hotel, ice cream and estremunhado, ran to the vast stove peristyle, and there I was, saturating myself that peace hot in the room was asleep, his eyes beatamente posts in good scarlet hot ... And then I saw that slim figure and long, as in tails and white tie, on the other side of the chimney, standing, with sullen sadness of a stork schism, also looked at the burning coals, with a napkin on his arm. But the doorman had rolled my luggage, and I went up myself to the bureau. The bookkeeper, tesa and blond. with an old-fashioned profile naughty medal, put your crochet beside your cup of tea, brushed with a sweet gesture Both sides laurels, correctly became my name, finger in the air, making gleam a diamond, and I would climb the wide staircase - when lean and fatal figure bent at an angle, and muttered myself an English round table pizza south lake tahoe silabado:
- Already served lunch seven ... But I did not want lunch seven. I went to sleep. Later, rested, fresh from the shower, when I went down to the restaurant for lunch, I saw just planted wistfully at the foot of a large window, the slim and sad individual. The room was deserted in a brown light; the blazing stoves; and outside, in the silence of Sunday, the seedlings streets, the snow fell unceasingly a sallow and dull sky. I saw only the man's back; but were in his thin line and slightly bent such a clear expression of dismay that I became interested in that figure. Long hair, tenor, fallen on the collar of his coat, was clearly a southern; and all his chilly thinness shrank round table pizza south lake tahoe the aspect of those roofs covered with snow, in the sense that silence livid ... I called him. When he turned, his face, only glimpsed the day before, round table pizza south lake tahoe struck me: it was a long, sad scolding, round table pizza south lake tahoe very dark, Jewish nose and a short, round table pizza south lake tahoe beaded beard, a beard of Christ in romantic pattern; his forehead was such that in good literature, is called, I believe, forehead: it was large and was glossy. Had the hollow and vacant stare, with a dream of indecision swimming in a softened fluid ... and that thinness! When I was in short pants twisted around themselves in the shin as flag folds around a mast; the coat had loose tunic folds; both long and acute flaps were unfortunately grotesque. Received the order of my lunch, without looking at me in a resigned boredom: dragged treated to the Comptoir where mai ^ tre d'hôtel read the Bible, rubbed his forehead with a wandering and sorrowful gesture, round table pizza south lake tahoe and said in a hollow voice:
- Number 307. Two chops. Tea ... The Maitre D away the Bible, he entered the menu - and I settled down at the table, and opened the volume of Tennyson had brought lunch with me - because I believe you told them it was Sunday without newspapers and no fresh bread. Out continued to snow on the city changes. To a distant table, round table pizza south lake tahoe an old brick color and all white hair and whiskers, who had just lunch, dozing hands in the belly, mouth open, and bezel on his nose. And the only sound came from the street, a voice whining that snow muffled all a beggar voice the corner opposite garganteava a psalm ... A Sunday in London.
It was lean that brought me lunch - and only he approached, with the tea service, I felt as soon as that volume of Tennyson in my hands had interested and impressed; was a quick look, greedily fixed on the open page, a barely perceptible shudder - runaway emotion, of course, because once you have landed the service, rolled on his heel and was planting -If the window wistfully, sad eye and put in the snow sad. I attributed that curious move to the splendor of volume binding, which were "The Idylls of El -King 'in black morocco, with the shield of Lancelot of the Lake of weapons - Pelican gold over a sea vert.
That night I left the Express to Scotland, and still had not passed York, asleep laughed his episcopal serious, as I had forgotten created romanesco restaurant and Charing Cross. It was only there a month, returning to London, that entering the restaurant, and reviewing that slow and fatal attraction figure cut through with a roast beef dish in one hand