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Morley, Christopher, 1890-1957

"Parnassus on Wheels"

There isn't even a library in the place."
For the life of me, I couldn't utter the tenderness in my heart with
that gorilla of a jailer standing behind us.
Somehow we made our way downstairs, after the Professor had gathered
together the sheets of his manuscript. It had already reached
formidable proportions, as he had written fifty pages in the
thirty-six hours he had been in prison. In the office we had to sign
some papers. The sheriff was very apologetic to Mifflin, and offered
to take him back to town in his car, but I explained that Parnassus
was waiting at the gate. The Professor's eyes brightened when he
heard that, but I had to hurry him away from an argument about
putting good books in prisons. The sheriff walked with us to the
gate and there shook hands again.
Peg whickered as we came up to her, and the Professor patted her
soft nose. Bock tugged at his chain in a frenzy of joy. At last we
were alone.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I never knew just how it happened. Instead of driving back through
Port Vigor, we turned into a side road leading up over the hill and
across the heath where the air came fresh and sweet from the sea.


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