“I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. Wood, in a taunting tone. Nobody could possibly find him now. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. She was the actress his whim had chosen to play a passive part.
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This video was uploaded to siguava.com on 26-06-2024 21:31:12
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