Lucy sprinted to one side to
avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of
yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece
like strands of rotten corn silk. It became a sort of duel at last between them, and all the
others sat and listened—every one, that is, except the Alderman, who had got the
blond young man into a corner by the green-stained dresser with the aluminum
things, and was sitting with his back to every one else, holding one hand over his
mouth for greater privacy, and telling him, with an accent of confidential
admission, in whispers of the chronic struggle between the natural modesty and
general inoffensiveness of the Borough Council and the social evil in
Marylebone. But I dare not accept it. Lucy savored the normalcy of the scene.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM5LjIzNi4xNTAgLSAwOC0wNy0yMDI0IDA1OjIwOjI2IC0gNzIyNjg4MzI1
This video was uploaded to gnusocial.club on 06-07-2024 22:37:31