The jar of marbles sat on the workbench, a small glass prison for a chaotic universe. Arthur Penhaligon, a man whose tweed jacket had seen better decades and whose reputation in the faculty of natural philosophy had seen worse, held the jar up to the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling of the station. The light caught the suspended dust motes, turning them into slow, golden stars, but...
English
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek