"My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve
him!—is still living. Shari was
snoring soundly. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of
loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in
evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. And, turning to his daughter, he gave the
necessary directions in a low tone. ”
Her father interrupted. The day was sunny and
pleasant, devoid of chill winds. He was not addicted to
monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a
universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was
one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!”
The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. I only know that it is right to do what I do. Wild is a friend of yours,
I'm sorry for what I said. “Broddick is a heavy
man,” he was saying, “and the main interest of the play was the embezzlement. And
yet, dang it! I've seen 'em just as innocent looking that were prime vipers.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOS4xNjEuMjM4IC0gMjEtMDctMjAyNCAxMDozNjo0MyAtIDEzNzk0NTc5OQ==
This video was uploaded to kooplokaalmontferland.info on 19-07-2024 10:19:09