“Have you turned him yet?” Michelle whispered hotly, trying not to raise the volume of her voice. A nurse was at the other end of the room. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify. Drink, and no sustaining food.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM4LjEzNS4yMTkgLSAxMi0wOS0yMDI0IDIyOjMzOjM1IC0gMTUwNjI2MzA1Ng==
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-09-2024 11:33:20
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10