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" "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. The worst was over now. She was frowning, but it was evident that her initial fright had left her.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 24-06-2024 19:31:25
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