"At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. “Where is she?” He would yell even louder until she was sure that people in faraway fishing boats could probably hear him. It was in no sense confessional; it was a state of mind in the patient the doctor had already anticipated. He was full of fabulous stories, not just tales of his own past in Rome but wonderful fables from the mysterious Orient and the ancient Greeks, old jokes and yarns that only he remembered. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Or felt it.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 18-09-2024 14:11:32
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