I barely prevailed sometimes, but in the end, my wits were faster than their steel. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. Immediately a feathered hat emerged, under which a familiar countenance was visible. Lord, I am sixty. I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 18:39:11