”
“Oh, I might,” he answered, “have gone further still. This—’ waving
an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. It was as if
her finite human brain could only store a limit of
information, details like hair color and fingernail shape
easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin
or the emotion of a shoulder blade. “How are you?” He asked,
realizing she was unnerved by the very sound of his voice. “I am one who controls most of the Church, dear. Poor
girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the
allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. ” He said. “How dare you!” she panted, with
her world screaming and grimacing insult at her. ”
“Sir John is an ass!” he declared. There's a letter for the head turnkey, Mr. Bounding the corner of a garden wall, he came upon his former place of
imprisonment. ’
‘Get going, then,’ Trodger told his men. Her cheeks flushed a dull red.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 26-06-2024 20:24:19