A fresh cool breeze blew in their faces. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. He was always deceived by these rustlings which promised wind and seldom fulfilled that promise. They had refused. Moving room to room it was.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 08-06-2024 10:00:32
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