One evening I was resting in a cafe. I wore a pair of newly bought white leather shoes,        were rather expensive. Then a boy came to me.
He was in   old and not fit shirt, looking pale and about eleven. No sooner had I begun to speak than he opened the box in his hand and    (take) out the tools of shoe-polishing. He was busy doing his work       heavy rain began to pour down. People rushed to the café for protection from the rain. More and more people crowded in and gradually separated the boy from me.
Hours passed, and       turned dark. I had no shoes on my feet and wondered where the boy had been. I thought I would have to go home on my bare feet. When it was near midnight, the café was to be closed. I had to move to the door, just as I went to the gate, I         (surprise) found that a boy of about eleven,              (look) very familiar, was sleeping at the door with his head leaning         a box. I shook him slightly and woke him up. He opened the package hurriedly, gave me my leather shoes, and apologized to me shyly. I paid him and wrapped him with his          (fit) shirt. On my way home, the image      the boy stayed in my mind.