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The Throng

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The Throng

Post  Admin on Thu Oct 16, 2008 8:07 pm

There, where the throng was thickest in the street, you stand with Pierrot. All eyes are turned on you.

"What are they laughing at?" you ask, but he grins, dusting the chalk from your black cloak. "I cannot see; it must be something droll, perhaps an honest thief!"

All eyes are turned on you.

"He has robbed you of your purse!" they laugh.

"My purse!" you cry; "Pierrot -- help! it is a thief!"

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