Arrived beneath an aperture in the broken roof, he was preparing to pass through it, when he observed a little heap of tiles upon the floor, which appeared to have been recently dislodged. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 18-09-2024 11:32:43
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