Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her. But from the rest—you saved me. Suddenly he stopped short. He had been frozen in time at age forty-two. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMS4xMTcuMjE0IC0gMzAtMDktMjAyNCAwMjo1NDowOCAtIDUzNzEzODk3MQ==
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 06:46:26