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“We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. She made up her mind in the train home that it should be a decisive crisis. In the pause she realized the attention of the others converged upon her, and that the tears were brimming over her eyes. There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. " Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged!" "Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 18:55:20