Skin and Other Stories

Skin and Other Stories

Roald Dahl

Language: English

Pages: 224

ISBN: 0141310340

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

How would you get rid of a murder weapon without causing suspicion? Where would you hide a diamond where no one else would think of looking? What if you found out that the tattoo on your back was worth over a million dollars? You will discover that just about anything is possible in a Roald Dahl story, and here are eleven of his very best.

Tell Me Why We Have Hurricanes

Island of Fire (The Unwanteds, Book 3)

Hero of the Rails

Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb

The Island Stallion Races (Black Stallion, Book 11)












of whispering and muttering beside the corpse, and the detectives kept asking her a lot of questions. But they always treated her kindly. She told her story again, this time right from the beginning, when Patrick had come in, and she was sewing, and he was tired, so tired he hadn’t wanted to go out for supper. She told how she’d put the meat in the oven – ‘it’s there now, cooking’ – and how she’d slipped out to the grocer for vegetables, and come back to find him lying on the floor. ‘Which

How’s that throat of yours been behaving?’ ‘It’s all right. It’s fine.’ ‘Now I’m here I might as well have a look at it.’ ‘Please don’t trouble. I’m quite cured. I’m fine.’ The Doctor began to feel the tension in the room. He looked at the black box on the bench; then he looked at the man. ‘You’ve got your hat on,’ he said. ‘Oh, have I?’ Klausner reached up, removed the hat and put it on the bench. The Doctor came up closer and bent down to look into the box. ‘What’s this?’ he said. ‘Making

followed his movements as he limped across the room. The old man changed his stick to his left hand, took the iron bar in his right, hobbled back to the dog and without pausing, he lifted the bar and brought it down hard upon the animal’s head. He threw the bar to the ground and looked up at Judson, who was standing there with his legs apart, dribbling down his chin and twitching around the corners of his eyes. He went right up to him and began to speak. He spoke very quietly and slowly, with a

move. This crunching.’ ‘If you get up,’ said the old man, ‘I’ll shoot you in the belly.’ For another hour or so the sobbing continued, then quite suddenly it stopped. Just before four o’clock it began to get very cold and the old man huddled deeper into his blankets and shouted, ‘Are you cold out there, Judson? Are you cold?’ ‘Yes,’ came the answer. ‘So cold. But I don’t mind because cow’s not crunching any more. She’s asleep.’ The old man said, ‘What are you going to do with the thief when

dress, her hands clasped before her, her head craned forward, intently listening, and the whole of the big white face seemed somehow to have gathered itself together, tight like a wine-skin. Almost at once the voice of Henry Snape came out of the radio, strong and clear. ‘You’re just a goddam little fool,’ he was saying, and this voice was so different from the one I remembered, so harsh and unpleasant, it made me jump. ‘The whole bloody evening wasted! Eight hundred points – that’s eight pounds

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