Buku
Mistapim in cambodia
WAKING up in a room adjoining the General's shrine that first morning was a tranquillizing sensation. From somewhere outside, through the barred window, there came a sound of tapping, then the long dragging sweep of a besom, followed by the twitter of birds from the rain-gutter above. The tapping seemed to come from the far side of our courtyard, then from just under the barred window-tap tap-tap-tap tap- tap-tap-tap, as though a ball was bouncing away down a gradual slope. As you faced the General's shrine my room was on the left through a doorway into a patio. The room itself looked out over the main courtyard. The three plain white bars of the window stood out in contrast to the ornate roof, where gables and tiled ornamental figures sprang upwards like danc- ing sea-urchins. The white bars were reflected in a puddle of water beneath and looked like part of a heraldic device.
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