I’m convinced that much of Russell’s investigations are on wrong lines, unsound lines. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. There's a man dying—Captain Darrell. "There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. “Martin, you realize that I’m dating someone, don’t you?” She knew his reply before he uttered it.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDUyLjE1Ljc0LjI1IC0gMjItMDktMjAyNCAyMjoyNzozMSAtIDc4ODIxNjUyNQ==
This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 22-09-2024 08:16:15
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11