McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. “It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. “I got Sydney’s telegram at ten o’clock, and caught the ten-thirty from the Gare du Nord. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjEyMy4xNTUgLSAwMy0xMC0yMDI0IDA0OjQ1OjM2IC0gMTgzNTI4MTg2NA==
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 22:13:44