Idiomas

Teclado

Pagina 314 de 657

Autor: Arthur Conan Doyle

Tempo0:00
Velocidade (WPM)0.0
Precisao100.0%

Pressione iniciar e digite as linhas exatamente. · Backspace desativado — continue mesmo apos erro.

Never in my life have I seen such a sight. The man's face peeled
off under the sponge like the bark from a tree. Gone was the
coarse brown tint! Gone, too, was the horrid scar which had
seamed it across, and the twisted lip which had given the
repulsive sneer to the face! A twitch brought away the tangled
red hair, and there, sitting up in his bed, was a pale,
sad-faced, refined-looking man, black-haired and smooth-skinned,
rubbing his eyes and staring about him with sleepy bewilderment.
Then suddenly realising the exposure, he broke into a scream and
threw himself down with his face to the pillow.
"Great heavens!" cried the inspector, "it is, indeed, the missing
man. I know him from the photograph."
The prisoner turned with the reckless air of a man who abandons
himself to his destiny. "Be it so," said he. "And pray what am I
charged with?"

Pressione iniciar e digite as linhas exatamente.

Nao iniciado