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“I am afraid that you are making a mistake. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. Certainly I would not murder monsieur le major, even that he has made a threat to beat me. Towards night, however, he ventured out, and walked on towards London. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. Yet you make our Bohemianism seem like a vulgar thing.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 27-09-2024 09:16:18