He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. And, mind, it's for his sister, Lady Trafford. How would he act when he learned that it had vanished? She gathered up the manuscripts and restored them to the envelope.
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This video was uploaded to donnematureporche.top on 17-07-2024 09:13:03
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