” Again on his way homeward from Cavendish Square he abandoned the direct route to pass by the door of Anna’s flat. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. "Thus," replied the prize-fighter. He looked at his friend. “You must answer me, Annabel,” she continued. But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. The winters were terrible in cold climates, and she often had been driven to dig herself large underground pits where she waited it out like a mole in the cold months. Then I threw a bucket of dirty water on his face and said, ‘Listen, asshole, let’s get one thing straight. What his head conceived his hand executed.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM3LjE4Ny4yMDQgLSAwMy0wNy0yMDI0IDA4OjIxOjE0IC0gMjg2NzQ3Mjk0
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