"Spring!—I never knew any. Snatching-up his pistols, he rushed to the door, but to his horror found it fastened. ‘And I do understand. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion, poking authorities, British and American red tape. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. Though within the last two days he had committed several heinous offences, and one of a darker dye than any with which the reader has been made acquainted, his breast was not yet so callous as to be wholly insensible to the stings of conscience. Why? Because Howard Spurlock the author dared not risk the liberty of Howard Spurlock the malefactor; because there were still some dregs in this cup of irony. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn.
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This video was uploaded to auctionswatch.info on 02-07-2024 02:17:19
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