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I was eighteen and Jimmy was twenty then.
In November it was very cold and Johnsy fell ill.
The monster can see that the lighthouse has got a neck as long as its neck, and a body like its body, and, most important of all, a voice like its voice.
The police found nothing and were going to leave.
And so it went for the rest of that night.
The policeman walked along the street looking important.
Say ‘Merry Christmas!’ Jim, and let us be happy.

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It was my favourite pet and a playmate.
There was no tower and no Fog Horn — the thing that had been call­ing to the monster for so many years.
You have cut off your hair? asked Jim, slowly, as if he had not understood her words.
If Jim does not kill me before he takes a second look at me, she said to herself, he’ll say I look like a song girl.
Days passed and I started to hate the cat but he loved me very much.

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I am waiting for my friend.
My pets, of course, felt the change in my character as I treated them badly if they came in my way.
The great eye of the light was shining into the sea.
When Della arrived home she began to repair what was left of her hair.
Twenty years ago we decided to meet here.
In the next, they were working at the wall and soon the body of my wife was seen in the niche.
It was the sound of unhappiness, of a cold night.

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