“I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. “Ah!” said Ramage, impressively. ” “Then, by God!” he said, “you’ll be locked up!” Ann Veronica was disconcerted for a moment. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. He succeeded so well that they were almost in Montague Street before Anna stopped short.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-09-2024 02:18:36
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