“It’s his birthday. ” “You don’t. I wish they would just get it over with. At least I can give you a glimmer. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. " CHAPTER XVIII. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 18-09-2024 23:53:49
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