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He had not to wait long. For a time he and Miss Klegg contradicted one another. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. She's not mischievous—and besides she's chained, and can't reach you. An incredible road he had elected to travel; he granted that it was incredible; and along this road somewhere would be Desire. ‘It is the life I know. You’re splendid stuff, you know, but you’ve got nothing ready to sell. ' It is signed JACK SHEPPARD.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-08-2024 11:31:14
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