What's-your-name?"
"Shotbolt, Sir," replied the jailer. At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together
in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so
went by way of Spies to Frutigen. He was Julian five years younger,
the spitting image. He pictured himself
visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it
was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would
surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the
lips. How could she tell him of the
evil that drew her and drew her, as a needle to the magnet?—the fascinating evil
that even now, escaped as it was, went on distilling its poison in her mind?
"Yes, yes!" said the doctor. So it does.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 28-06-2024 09:25:24