Blore stood rigid - listening. He could hear sounds everywhere now, cracks, rustles, mysterious whispers - but his dogged, realistic brain knew them for what they were - the creations of his own heated imagination. And then suddenly he heard something that was not imagination. Footsteps, very soft, very cautious, but plainly audible to a man listening with all his ears as Blore was listening.
—from And Then There Were None, a book by Agatha Christie
Active since April 12, 2023.
395 total characters in this text.
View Pit Stop page for this text
| Universe | Races | Average WPM | First Race |
|---|---|---|---|
| Default (English) | 6,193 | 92.17 | April 12, 2023 |