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One only. The booming voice and the energetic movements spoke plainly of hurry. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. I want to fill it with fine and precious things.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 27-09-2024 03:47:46