Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the
correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly
gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of
somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her
heart. During this movement, Jack grasped the barrel of his
pistol, held in his breath, and motioned to Blueskin, who bared a long knife, to
keep still. To witness this girl sewing on a loose button, flopping the coat about on her
knees, tickled his ironic sense of humour; and laughter bubbled into his throat. Upon the pavement near the court lay the
porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. "
"A miniature! Of whom?"
"That I can't say," replied Jack, mysteriously.
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This video was uploaded to kooplokaalmontferland.info on 28-06-2024 13:50:11