“Please stop fighting me. I spoke a thought aloud. The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as
stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned,
Mrs. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion
and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present
it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal
description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those
valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a
swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of
determined women at war with the universe. The doctor walked over to the bed, folded his arms
across his chest and stared down into the unabashed eyes of his patient.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQxLjE5OC4xODYgLSAxNS0wNy0yMDI0IDA2OjIyOjUwIC0gMTEyOTgxODU0MA==
This video was uploaded to kooplokaalmontferland.info on 14-07-2024 21:40:28