Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. It was an overcast day, albeit not foggy, and the electric light shades glowed warmly, and an Italian waiter with insufficient English took Ramage’s orders, and waited with an appearance of affection. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. Snatching-up his pistols, he rushed to the door, but to his horror found it fastened. From where had he come, and why? An author! To her he would be no less interesting because he was unsuccessful.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 21-09-2024 17:08:09
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