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"Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. “Where am I?” he muttered. He saw three people: a young man at the piano, an elderly man smoking in a corner, and a young woman reclining in a chair, her eyes closed. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. “Rubbish!” he answered. You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied. At least for one moment, it was. Very gently indeed, Alderley grasped the handle of the door and stealthily turned it. I speak frankly, because you also know that no possible extremity would induce me to accept help from any living person.

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This video was uploaded to smicorporate.biz on 26-06-2024 06:01:33

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