Now, Sir, will you please to follow me?" Mr. 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. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. Two or three podgy-looking old men with wives to match, half-a-dozen overdressed girls, and a couple of underdressed American ones, who still wore the clothes in which they had been tramping half over London since breakfast time. Her aunt was a long time before she answered. Ennison too, always handsome and debonnair, seemed transported out of his calm self. Silence! Then Anna clutched her companion’s arm.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjEzLjE2NCAtIDIyLTA5LTIwMjQgMTE6NDI6MjkgLSAyMDg4ODczNDA=
This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 18-09-2024 23:22:41
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9