A traffic of copious barges slumbered
over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in
the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London
seagulls. When he begins to notice
things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from
reverting to his misfortunes. "Kiss me. Widgett was a journalist and art critic, addicted to a
greenish-gray tweed suit and “art” brown ties; he smoked corncob pipes in the
Avenue on Sunday morning, travelled third class to London by unusual trains,
and openly despised golf. “They seem smaller, you know, even physically smaller,” she said. "'Sdeath!" cried Hogarth, aside to the poet. If I'd been in the way, instead of Jonathan Wild, that
accident wouldn't have happened. ‘I told you I could
handle her.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNi4xNjQuMTQzIC0gMTItMDctMjAyNCAxNTo0MzowMSAtIDEzNjU1NzgzNDE=
This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 12-07-2024 10:40:15