Stump electronic books

But now? He could not read law for more than four hours a
day, and get anything from it. What was to be done with the rest of the
time? What could he do to keep himself from thinking of--from thinking?
He looked out of his one window, over the dreary stretch of roofs and
the drearier light shafts spoken of flatteringly as yards. He compressed
his lips, and resorted once more to his book. But he found his mind
wandering, and realized that he had done all he was equal to on a hot
July morning. Again he looked out over the roofs. Then he rose and stood
in the middle at his room, thinking. He looked at his watch again, to
make sure that he was right. Then he opened his door and glanced about
the hall. It was one blank, except for the doors. He went down the two
flights of stairs to the street. Even that had the deserted look of
summer. He turned and went back to his room. Sitting down once more at
his desk, and opening somebody "On Torts" again, he took up his pen and
began to copy the pages literally.


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