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” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick. Then suddenly he seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained the better part of a week’s work—a displayed dissection of a snail, beautifully done—and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to mingle with the debris on the floor. "But your dreadful projects will recoil on your own head. Only in the sunshine; they would not answer my whistle on cloudy days. Soot was everywhere, for the lamp would not stay trimmed in the gale.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 20:29:58