Wells
“The art of ignoring is one of the accomplishments of every
well-bred girl, so carefully instilled that at last she can
even ignore her own thoughts and her own knowledge. Valade, who was standing by
her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown
on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented
air. ‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little. ’
‘What young lady?’ demanded a voice from the back of the hall. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms,
and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard
from within. Sir John stood upon the threshold. He was
followed by a great pile of black organs, hers, her female
parts. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the
water. “I do
not even know who you are. The poor boy, wanting his empty coat! The incident, however, caused her to
review the recent events. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and,
on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys
was collected in the yard.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 28-06-2024 04:04:25