I have only just left Wych Street. I want you. The features
were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow
below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun?
Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of
energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald
made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. Everything was blurred. “You wouldn’t. Not far from the entrance, on the left,
was a sort of screen, or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling,
formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron bolts, and studded with
broad-headed nails. "Rot, weren't they?"
"No. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer
functioned in the accustomed groove. Where's the dining room? And, say, can I have some eggs? This jam-tea
breakfast gets my goat. "I generally
take a party.
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This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 03-07-2024 09:05:07