’ ‘What sort of “down on your luck”?’ asked Alderley. "Take him home, Saunders," said Sir Rowland, resigning his faulty steed to the attendant's care, "I shall not require you further. He did it, he said, “to distract his mind. And experience was slow in coming. For every Eden, there will be a serpent; for every sheepfold, there will be a wolf. ’ ‘It’s no use blaming me, Gerald,’ uttered Roding, shrugging helplessly as his senior turned questioning eyes on him. Think—think of that engagement!” Their talk had come to eloquent silences that contradicted all he had to say. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. Ask your own conscience.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 20-09-2024 20:26:55
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