“Are you A, B, C, or D?” he asked. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. "Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand. For freedom at least. Spurlock mused over the previous night. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 07-07-2024 19:23:08
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