They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. "Something more than whisky did that. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. He could have easily forced it, but preferred a more expeditious mode of reaching the roof which suggested itself to him. Something he saw there made him feel for a moment ashamed. But she must not laugh. Pretty good stuff, some of it.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 17-05-2024 22:09:24
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