” He adjusted his glasses on his nose. I wonder what it was. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 21-09-2024 15:07:53
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