Watch: h902s

To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video

" Lady Trafford sighed deeply. ‘Ah. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. The veins in his throat and forehead swelled and blackened; his eyes protruded from their sockets, and stared wildly; a thick damp gathered on his brow: and blood gushed from his mouth, nostrils, and ears. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. Babies produced of vampire women are the real monsters, Lucia. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head.

Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTMzLjEyNy4zNyAtIDMwLTA5LTIwMjQgMTE6MzA6NDYgLSAxOTExOTU2NTE4

This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 20:22:20