“You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. ” “Who will?” “The police! The families of the people I’ve killed! I’m guilty!” “How old do I have to be?” “I beg your pardon?” “To be of use to you. Then suddenly he seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained the better part of a week’s work—a displayed dissection of a snail, beautifully done—and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to mingle with the debris on the floor.
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This video was uploaded to southmsnightout.com on 05-06-2024 19:21:55
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