With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. His number was unlisted and unpublished. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. Gerald raised his cockaded hat, and smiled. He is delightful, is he not?’ ‘That will do, Lucilla. We are going to have this chap writing books one of these days.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjkzLjE0MSAtIDMwLTA5LTIwMjQgMTA6MTU6NTUgLSAxMTIxMzg2ODc4
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 19:00:40