As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. It was now evident that he had not been normal that first day. He, next, tried to clamber up the flying buttresses and soffits of the pier, in the hope of reaching some of the windows and other apertures with which, as a man-of-war is studded with port-holes, the sides of the bridge were pierced. And don't neglect my instructions this time. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM4LjEyMC4xMzYgLSAyMy0wOS0yMDI0IDIxOjI3OjIzIC0gMTM2Mjc2MTgwNQ==
This video was uploaded to usavacationcenters.com on 22-09-2024 05:41:32
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11