lt;The misfortune of

Villagers in homespun short shirts carried farm produce past him, casting sideways glances his way, their eyes twinkling with amusement. He could still hear the fading chatter of their conversation.,Theoretically, he should be very twenty-first century right now, hiding in the restroom with that “Auntie” who just arrived, using the sound of the tracks to do some sneaky things.,After a barrage of sweet nothings, the high-society lady finally succumbed. Just as he gently pushed her into the bathroom, news broke of a high-speed train accident.。