To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video
CHAPTER XXXI. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. Upon my word, Anna,” she declared, with a strange little laugh, “you are a thousand times more like me as I was two months ago than I am myself. ” “Well, you can’t say you’re a failure there,” Lady Lescelles remarked, smiling. That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTYuMTM1LjM2IC0gMzAtMDktMjAyNCAwNjozMzozOSAtIDIwNDA1NzU5MTM=
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 08:57:50