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’ ‘How can it be in dispute?’ frowned Mrs Sindlesham. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. She backed away from him. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 13:40:47