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Excerpt: 'The long hot tropic day was drawing to its close. The shadows were gradually rising and filling the narrow street, and every now and then from the side of the open drain which ran through the middle of the street a large black carrion bird flew up. There was no sidewalk, the cobblestones running right up to the low white house walls. The windows which opened on the street were for the most part few in number, small and heavily barred. It was not by any means the best quarter in Colon. One building, more pretentious than the rest, was distinguished from its neighbours by large French…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Excerpt: 'The long hot tropic day was drawing to its close. The shadows were gradually rising and filling the narrow street, and every now and then from the side of the open drain which ran through the middle of the street a large black carrion bird flew up. There was no sidewalk, the cobblestones running right up to the low white house walls. The windows which opened on the street were for the most part few in number, small and heavily barred. It was not by any means the best quarter in Colon. One building, more pretentious than the rest, was distinguished from its neighbours by large French windows, also protected by the iron screen or reja. It was impossible to tell the nationality of the one man lounging along the street. He seemed profoundly buried in his own thoughts. Dark as his skin was, and black as was his beard, there was something about him which negatived the idea that he was a Spaniard. His rolling walk suggested the sailor's life. As he passed the building with the long French windows, the tinkle of a guitar roused his attention, and he stepped inside the front door and glanced furtively at the few men who lounged about the tables which dotted the long room. Passing by several empty tables and chairs, the stranger seated himself in the corner of the room on the side further from the street, near a window which opened on a neglected garden. A tropical vine thrust its branches against what had once been a wood and glass partition which formed the end of the room, the branches and leaves twining in and out among the broken panes of the window.

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Autorenporträt
American author Natalie Sumner Lincoln specialized in mystery and crime fiction, with many of her works taking place in her hometown of Washington, DC. She was born in Washington, D.C., on October 4, 1881. She was the daughter of writer and children's book author Jeanie Gould and Dr. Nathan Smith Lincoln, a Civil War doctor who served as James A. Garfield's White House physician. Political journalist George Gould Lincoln was her brother. She attended Laura A. Flint's Private School in Washington for her education. From 1912 until 1914, Lincoln served as the Washington Herald's social editor. From April 1915 until her death, she served as editor of the Daughters of the American Revolution Magazine. Except for one, all 22 of Lincoln's novels were set in Washington, DC. Inspector Mitchell or Detective Ferguson from the Washington, DC, police were featured in around half of them. The Man Inside (1916) and Black Shadows (1920), the latter based on The Official Chaperon, were two of her books that turned into silent movies. She has written short tales for a variety of publications, including Detective Story Magazine, All-Story, Smith's Magazine, and McCall's. On August 31, 1935, Natalie Sumner Lincoln passed away at her Hawthorne Street residence in Washington, D.C.