|
Hi,
Thank you for expressing interest in
Genuine Replica Watches.
We would like to take this opportunity to offer you our fine selection of
Italian crafted Rolex Timepieces.
You can view our large selection of Rolexes
(including Breitling, Tag Heuer, Cartier etc) at:
www.namethewatch.info
As we are the direct manufacturers,
you are guaranteed of lowest prices and highest quality
each and every time you purchase from us.
You may also be interested to know that we have the following brands
available in our wide selection as well:
-
Rolex
-
Carrier
-
Bvlgari
-
Frank Muller
-
Harry Winston
-
Chopard
-
Patek Philippe
-
Vacheron Constantin
-
Breguet
-
A.lange & Sohne
-
Glashute Original
-
Audemars Piguet
-
Roger Dubuis
-
Blancpain
-
Jaeger-lecoultre
-
IWC
-
Zenith
-
Officine Panerai
-
Alain Silberstein
-
Chronoswiss
-
Breitling
-
Omega
-
Tag Heuer
-
Ikepod
-
Eberhard
-
Tudor
-
Sinn
|
If you see anything that might interest you,
or if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to visit our website at:
www.namethewatch.info
I certainly look forward to hearing from you.
Best regards,
Mike
Sales Manager
Genuine Replicas
You received this email because your have previous purchased from,
or inquired about our product line under GENUINE REPLICAS.
If you prefer not to participate further with GENUINE REPLICAS,
proceed by sending an email with the title heading:
DELETE in the subject line to address@hidden
I am the most unfortunate of men. Rich, respected, fairly well educated and of sound health
-- with many other advantages usually valued by those having them and coveted by those who
have them not -- I sometimes think that I should be less unhappy if they had been denied me,
for then the contrast between my outer and my inner life would not be continually demanding
a painful attention. In the stress of privation and the need of effort I might sometimes forget
the sombre secret ever baffling the conjecture that it compels.
I am the only child of Joel and Julia Hetman. The one was a well-to-do country gentleman, the
other a beautiful and accomplished woman to whom he was passionately attached with what I
now know to have been a jealous and exacting devotion. The family home was a few miles from
Nashville, Tennessee, a large, irregularly built dwelling of no particular order of architecture,
a little way off the road, in a park of trees and shrubbery.
At the time of which I write I was nineteen years old, a student at Yale. One day I received a
telegram from my father of such urgency that in compliance with its unexplained demand I left
at once for home. At the railway station in Nashville a distant relative awaited me to apprise me
of the reason for my recall: my mother had been barbarously murdered -- why and by whom none
could conjecture, but the circumstances were these.
My father had gone to Nashville, intending to return the next afternoon. Something prevented his
accomplishing the business in hand, so he returned on the same night, arriving just before the dawn
In his testimony before the coroner he explained that having no latchkey and not caring to disturb
the sleeping servants, he had, with no clearly defined intention, gone round to the rear of the house.
As he turned an angle of the building, he heard a sound as of a door gently closed, and saw in the darkness,
indistinctly, the figure of a man, which instantly disappeared among the trees of the lawn. A hasty
pursuit and brief search of the grounds in the belief that the trespasser was some one secretly visiting
a servant proving fruitless, he entered at the unlocked door and mounted the stairs to my mother's chamber.
Its door was open, and stepping into black darkness he fell headlong over some heavy object on the floor.
I may spare myself the details; it was my poor mother, dead of strangulation by human hands!
|