"And now, widow," continued the ruffian, setting down the candle, and applying his lips to the bottle neck as he flung his heavy frame upon a bench, "I've a piece o' good news for you. His own peculiar genius—a miracle key to the hidden things in men's souls—had given him this immediate and astonishing illumination. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. There was another little thing he had to say. That was an admission all right. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him. . Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face.
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This video was uploaded to southmsnightout.com on 15-05-2024 12:30:57
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