To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video
ToC On the night of Friday, the 26th of November, 1703, and at the hour of eleven, the door of a miserable habitation, situated in an obscure quarter of the Borough of Southwark, known as the Old Mint, was opened; and a man, with a lantern in his hand, appeared at the threshold. One of the shutters was a trifle damaged, letting in added light. "One last embrace. “Anna,” he pleaded, “be merciful. Pitt, pointing to the prisoner. “Now, there, there. ‘Eh bien, pig. This person, whose age might be about forty, was attired in a brown double-breasted frieze coat, with very wide skirts, and a very narrow collar; a light drugget waistcoat, with pockets reaching to the knees; black plush breeches; grey worsted hose; and shoes with round toes, wooden heels, and high quarters, fastened by small silver buckles. ‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. The change will come to-day. It's my way when I'm ruffled. But he. ” She said. I proceeded to Manchester, to investigate the matter further, and when there ascertained, beyond a doubt, that you were the eldest daughter of Sir Montacute Trenchard.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjM3LjEyIC0gMjktMDktMjAyNCAwNDozODo0OSAtIDIwMzcxNTU0NzU=
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 16:54:26