’ With an air of real interest, he asked, ‘I suppose you did not dig a tunnel or fly in by balloon?’ The lady gazed at him blankly. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 18-09-2024 15:13:40
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