To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video
“They are full of the usual foolish stories. ’ ‘Then who is this Englishman?’ demanded Gerald on a sceptical note. Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to escape from it. He went on. Just as I might have killed another, if he had come out. Courtlaw sat with folded arms. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. I'm not interested in him. It is not for myself I fear. ’ ‘Of course you weren’t there,’ snapped Hilary. ” “It’s dreadful for you to be here,” he said, indicating the yellow presence of the first fog of the year without, “but your aunt told me something of what had happened. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. “Excellent fellow!” he answered a little irrelevantly.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNy43Mi4yMzEgLSAwMy0xMC0yMDI0IDE1OjI1OjMyIC0gMjA1MjU3NTQxOA==
This video was uploaded to tructiepcauthongthuongde.org on 01-10-2024 10:30:35