Silence of the Lambs _ Thomas Harris
In the darkness below, Catherine Martin fumbled under her cushion. She felt the chicken bone and sniffed it. It's not easy not to eat the meat and cartilage above. She put the bone in her mouth and warmed it. She stood up and swayed a little in the vertiginous darkness. There was nothing in the steep pit with her except her futon, the paratrooper's uniform she was wearing, the plastic toilet, and the thin cotton rope that stretched up to the pale yellow light. As long as her mind is clear, she is thinking about it every interval. Catherine stretched her hand up as high as she could, and she gripped the rope tightly. Is it better to pull hard or pull slowly? She breathed heavily for the umpteenth time, thinking about it. It's better to pull it steadily bit by bit. The length of the cotton rope stretched out was longer than she estimated. She reached up as high as she could, grabbed the rope again and pulled, shaking her arm from side to side, hoping that the rope was slowly fraying where it passed the edge of the wood at the opening above her head. She grinded until her shoulder ached. She pulled,ultrasonic generator driver, and the rope extended. There is no extension now, no more extension. Clear in the heights. Poof! The rope fell and covered her face in circles. She crouched on the ground and the rope fell over her head and shoulders; the hole above her head was so high that the light was not enough to see the rope piled up on her body. She knew how much rope had been pulled down. You can't get tangled up! She measured the rope with her forearm and carefully swung it to the ground one by one. She counted up to 14 arms long. The rope broke at the mouth of the well. She tied the chicken bone with a few shreds of meat to the rope where it shook hands with the sanitary orange, which is now a more difficult part. Do it carefully. Her state of mind was like a man in bad weather, like a man in a boat in bad weather to take care of his own life. She tied the frayed end of the rope to her wrist and tightened the knot with her teeth. She stood as far away from the rope as possible. She took the handle of the commode, made a large circle,ultrasonic welding transducer, and threw the bucket straight at the dim light above her head. The plastic bucket missed its opening, hit the underside of the lid and fell back, hitting her face and shoulder. The little dog barked even louder. She slowly arranged the rope again, threw it once, and threw it again. On the third throw, the pail fell on her broken finger, and she had to lean against the slanting wall and gasp for breath until she was no longer sick. The fourth time it was thrown, the bucket still swelled and hit her, ultrasonic spray nozzle ,ultrasonic cutting machine, but the fifth time it didn't, the bucket went out. The bucket is right next to the opening, somewhere on the wooden manhole cover. How far is it from the cave? Steady. Gently, she pulled. She jerked the rope to hear the handle of the pail clattering on the wood above her. The little dog barked louder. She couldn't pull the bucket over the edge of the hole and down, but she had to pull it close to the hole. She drew the pail closer to the hole. The little dog passed between mirrors and mannequins in a room not far from the basement. Sniff the threads and splinters under the sewing machine. Arched his nose around the black armoire. Look to the end of the basement where the sound came from. He rushed to the dark place and barked, and then rushed back. There was only one voice, which echoed faintly in the basement. Bao-Belle- The little dog barked and jumped to a proper place, and its chubby little body trembled with the bark. Then I heard a wet and slippery kissing sound. The dog looked up at the kitchen floor above, but the sound was not coming from there. There was a gurgling sound, as if he were eating. Come on, baby! Come on, sweetheart! The dog ran into the darkness with its paws on tiptoe and its ears up. Come here, sweetheart! Come here, baby! The poodle smelled the chicken bone tied to the handle of the toilet. It scratched on the edge of the well and made a purring sound. Tut, tut. The little dog jumped on the wooden manhole cover. The smell was here, between the bucket and the hole. The dog barked at the bucket, purring and hesitating. The chicken bone moved very slightly. The poodle hunched up with his nose between his front paws and his tail wagging furiously in the air behind him.
He barked twice, then threw himself on the chicken bone and clenched it tightly with his teeth. The bucket seemed to be trying to push the dog away from the chicken bone. The poodle barked at the pail. He held on, straddling the handle, his teeth firmly clenched on the bone. Suddenly, the bucket knocked the dog to the ground. It slipped on all fours. The bucket pushed the dog. The dog struggled to get up and was knocked to the ground again. The dog fought with the bucket. Its buttocks and one hind foot slipped into the hole. The dog's paws scratched and crawled frantically on the wood. The bucket slipped and got stuck in the hole with the back half of the dog's body. But the little dog broke free, and the bucket slipped over the edge and fell down. Disappear in the hole with the chicken bone. The poodle barked angrily at the bottom of the hole, and the bark spread to the bottom of the well. Then he stopped barking and turned his head to listen to a sound that only he could hear. He hurried down the top of the well and up the stairs, still shouting, when he heard a heavy sound of a door closing somewhere upstairs. Katherine. Baker Martin's face was covered with tears. Tears fell. She clutched at the front of the paratrooper's uniform. She was drenched to the skin, and the two rooms were hot. She believed that she was doomed. WwW, xiaoshuotxt. Comtxt = small _ say [_ days. Don Section 42 Crawford stood alone in the center of his study, his hands deep in his pockets,ultrasonic molten metal, and he stood from twelve thirty to twelve thirty-three in the morning, thinking of ideas. Then he sent a telex to the California Department of Motor Vehicles, asking them to track down the motel that Dr. Lecter said Raspail had bought in California for his romance with Klaus. Crawford asked the Department of Motor Vehicles to verify the vehicle tickets issued to any driver other than Benjamin Raspail. Then he sat down on the sofa with his clipboard and drew up a provocative personal advertisement for the leading newspapers:. fycgsonic.com
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