To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video
"I am too much honoured—too happy in the union. They were things I had meant very much to talk to you about, so that I went home vexed and disappointed, and only relieved myself a little by writing a few verses. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. " "Mr. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMC4yMDIuMjA5IC0gMzAtMDktMjAyNCAxMDozNjoyMiAtIDUwMzI5NDU2Ng==
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 27-09-2024 07:43:26