He entered
it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he
stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and
when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. . . He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in
sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to
assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those
dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. ”
Annabel clutched her sister’s hands. ” He bit, feeling
the numb desire to maul her. She wasn’t well-liked really, I think people were jealous of
her. Why should WE hoard? We aren’t going
out presently, like Japanese lanterns in a gale.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTUuMTM3LjEzMiAtIDA4LTA3LTIwMjQgMjE6MTU6NDIgLSAxNDA3MDg0ODE1
This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 07-07-2024 13:44:41