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Think! Had you not better hurry back before Sir John discovers? You are his wife right enough. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me. His course, however, was no longer interrupted, and he crept on. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. It must be sent home this evening.

Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ2LjE3OC4xNjUgLSAyMy0wOS0yMDI0IDA1OjMyOjI2IC0gNzE1NTMzNTAx

This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 22-09-2024 21:19:16

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