—Strype's Stow. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. You’ll have to find someone else.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 21-09-2024 02:47:42
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