"It has been … rather a hard day, Hoddy," Ruth answered. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. He stepped in with a heavy foreboding of calamity. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. Her confession was still unmade.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTI4LjE3Mi4xOTkgLSAxNC0wOS0yMDI0IDE1OjM5OjE5IC0gNzY0MzUwMzI1
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 12-09-2024 20:34:59
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10