Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. Three a week is my allowance, and, if I get short ones, four. They seem to spend their time yawning and inspecting their neighbour’s dresses through those hateful glasses.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNy43NC4yMzEgLSAyMy0wOS0yMDI0IDAxOjI0OjQxIC0gMTc5MjQwMTUzOQ==
This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 18-09-2024 04:11:53
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