But it’s as you say. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. Tell him the truth, Annabel. I’m taking no chances. Jests are not for seasons like this. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-06-2024 11:14:28
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