‘And if it was not for that imbecile of a Gérard, who has put his soldiers to watch for me, it would not need that I make it. We were to live in some wretched London suburb. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 24-09-2024 01:36:29
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