Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the
prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom
and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and
barred the door. And also she didn’t like them. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your
brain which is addled. There were neither texts nor
rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel
engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. Still, there certainly was something in the idea of a treaty. The women’s meeting was
much more charged with emotional force than the Socialists’. It was better even than the hymn-singing.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDEzLjU4LjExNC4xNzUgLSAwNC0wNy0yMDI0IDAzOjE3OjU2IC0gMzA0NDcxMDkz
This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 03-07-2024 19:19:09