Yet he’s been here for six years, and he’s as much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. Who could say that the two weren't in collusion? When a chap like Spurlock jumped the traces, cherchez la femme, every time. On the way, he hired a chair with a couple of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. ” “You said you loved me – did you mean it?” He said. " "Mr. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. There is a new life, different from the old life of dependence, possible. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 12-09-2024 23:30:26
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