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Stanley regarded him through his glasses with something approaching animosity. Three more people came to meet them at the door. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. In an instant, she turned on him. Sheppard, and regarding her with an insolent and threatening glance. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. Ann Veronica pushed aside a tea-cup and the vestiges of her strawberries and cream, and put her elbows before her on the table. She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed. “Was he really?” She asked, waiting on baited breath. “These are the playgrounds of life. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. She shuddered.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 09-09-2024 17:18:39
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