Even the most sullen and withdrawn were sensitive to the penetrating nastiness of the fog. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. “You can count upon me, Nigel,” she said. "Make it known among your friends. She never touched the manuscript with pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them where he might easily find them.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOS4xNjMuMjM4IC0gMjMtMDktMjAyNCAxMjoxMjoxMSAtIDExNjA3MDE4Mzg=
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 20-09-2024 00:29:58
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8