Explore "Krakatit" by Karel Čapek on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The car drew up in a dark, wooded valley. Prokop made out in the half light some large towers and slag heaps. "Well, here we are," muttered Daimon. "This is my mine and forge; that's nothing. Out you get!"
"Am I to leave her here? " asked Prokop softly.