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He
made a movement toward her, and then recalled the circumstances of their last
conversation in that study. She was nude and
horribly maimed. In lieu of the
substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of
falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed. Kneebone nodded. At the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled upon a museum of
rarities, there were so many glass-cases, so many open cabinets, ranged against
the walls; but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a virtuoso, his tastes
did not run in the ordinary channels. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call
him “Mangles!”
“I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into
another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time.
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This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 01-07-2024 09:00:02