It was long and narrow, with a ceiling supported by huge uncovered rafters, and so low as scarcely to allow a tall man like himself to stand erect beneath it. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder!' in the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 10-09-2024 22:45:10
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