“He was alive at four o’clock this afternoon,” she answered, “but the doctors give little hope of his recovery. He had barely settled at his desk in his library, when he was disturbed by two morning callers. “I want to be your friend,” he said. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. With each step his heartbeat increased exponentially. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 06-06-2024 19:43:42
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