This was a common place for me but today I discerned there was something wrong when I turned around. Wrong means not right. There were two men in the bank now, a big guy just inside the door and a smaller one more like a skeleton in the middle of the floor.
Big guy was leafing through the leaflets on the counter, but his eyes were on the door and the eyes of the small guy never stopped moving and were scouting the scope and layout of the room, his head moved like that of a tennis fan sitting at the net.
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第十二篇: 消磨时间 Killing Time
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