In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. It was an impulse. “Who, me? I scare you?” He asked. "These are my terms, Sir Rowland," he added, taking a sheet of paper from his pocket, and pushing it towards the knight. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. There is a tragedy to come. The Wastrel did not relish this. Not part with him!" added he aloud.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDEzLjU5LjE0MS43NSAtIDIxLTA5LTIwMjQgMDg6MzQ6MDEgLSA2Mzc3NTY1NDk=
This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 20-09-2024 18:21:34
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11 - Ref12 - Ref13