Thames Darrell. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. I saw him last night at Jonathan Wild's, after my escape from the New Prison. ‘I am fascinated. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 27-09-2024 22:08:58