He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. A sinister thought edged in. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 27-09-2024 12:05:17