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"But what is an oath to you!" cried the widow, distrustfully. 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. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. After that consolations fled. The Chinamen raised the limp body and carried it to the hall staircase, up which they mounted laboriously. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 25-04-2024 22:10:24
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