“I think, perhaps if you will excuse
me, that we will defer the luncheon. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages
is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. Believe me, it will be better
by far that you should consent to marry me. The material cares of life hang about your neck
like a millstone. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant
flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do?
“I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. I'll tote it myself. ‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little
from his fingers. Can't I make you understand? Perhaps it sounds
cruel to you; but we women often have to be cruel defensively. Some of my
schemes are already in hand. When I
think of it—”
“But these are things I want to tell you now!”
“I made a little song of it.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjE1LjcgLSAyOS0wNi0yMDI0IDIyOjIxOjAxIC0gMjA1OTEyMTEyNA==
This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 29-06-2024 08:38:49