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He cried out but his father only waved 280 like an automaton until the apparition disappeared. White rang the bell. Each manuscript was like the other: the same lovely treatment of an unlovely subject. Then suddenly he seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained the better part of a week’s work—a displayed dissection of a snail, beautifully done—and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to mingle with the debris on the floor.

Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNS4yNTUuMTg3IC0gMjQtMDktMjAyNCAxOToyODoyMCAtIDE2MzE5MjQ4Mw==

This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 22-09-2024 08:16:40