“Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. He was content
to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets
full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. After a long fifteen seconds, she
pulled her head back into the seat, looking at his face
from the close angle, his nose huge and out of
perspective, his eyes like round blue pearls. "
Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and,
looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be
hanged!"
"Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin. He’s a
prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John—doesn’t know what an artist is.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 04-07-2024 08:48:01