The Widgett mental furniture was perhaps worn and shabby, but there it was before you, undisguised, fading visibly in an almost pitiless sunlight. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. —'How so?' says I. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. "Farewell!" cried Jack, embracing them.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 23-09-2024 17:25:45