Without Reserve
... WI$]hmt 3R,egeiPV0o IBsiiPipy Faliao He was, perhaps, fifty years of age. His dress was rusty and seedy but academical. The shrewd wind ballooned his gown, evidential of the degree of Master of Arts, impressive to the villagers. His face bore signs of occasional starvation, occasional inebriety, and long-past refinement. He stood on the outskirts of the market place with a table before him and ...