“Lord!” she said. His
shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were
stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his
head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged
hat. Supper was
spaghetti and Italian sausage that night. "Holloa—what's that?" cried Austin, starting up. “Sometimes it is not bad. “Yes?” he said. It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the
day we first spoke to one another. And then you can go home and think things over before we talk again. Love—admiration for
your matchless beauty alone sways me. He thrust the smaller weapon
into a scabbard that hung from his belt. Between his lectures—and primarily he was an itinerant lecturer—he
manoeuvred in vain to acquire some facts regarding the girl, who she was,
whence she had come; but always she countered with: "What is that?" Guileless
she might be; simple, never. ‘Both of them so wise after the event. "
"Holloa! my hearty!" cried Ben, starting to his feet.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 10-07-2024 09:44:57