To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video
Oddly, he was seldom angry with her as Gianfrancesco would have been. “Why? Do you think I’m a stoner?” He asked. ” She smiled, sure of herself beyond any pretending, into his troubled eyes. He did his best not to grin. His face fell. “Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog. She tugged at my coat and said, ‘I know of the blue-eyed maid.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDEzLjU5Ljc2LjE1MCAtIDIxLTA5LTIwMjQgMTU6NDY6MTkgLSAxNDcyNDI5ODg3
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 18-09-2024 18:01:18
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11 - Ref12