Explore "Mr. Marx's Secret" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was late on this same evening. All day long the thunder had been rumbling and growling, and now the storm seemed close at hand.
I had partly undressed, but it was too hot to get into bed, so I leaned out of my wide-open window, watching the black clouds hanging down from the sky, and listening to the rustling of leaves in the wood -- sure sign of the coming storm.