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“Hainault, Celeste’s friend. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. Apparently he did not see his recent companions. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. Managers and accountants are always shifting about, so he tells me. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout. Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. “No, she just worries that I’ll go Satanic and start chomping the heads off of bats and mice or something. ‘You’re the most troublesome wretch I’ve ever encountered,’ he told her bitterly. She rang again with the same result.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 21-09-2024 14:34:03
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