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All
the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a
house when people leave it in the summer. She wormed her way past Sebastian, glanced at her
mother’s blackened face, her obscenely naked body
bulging with yellow and black buboes under the arms and
in the groin that oozed stinking fluid. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it
might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her
reason. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet
lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman
eyes. ’
Fire enveloped Charvill’s mind and he brought up his cane, pointed like a
musket. Men had tried to kiss her—
unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to
escape. "But if it is your mother, send
her about her business. Wood.
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This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 28-06-2024 19:51:37