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His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. I tried painting and couldn’t get on. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. “You really couldn’t ride in it,” he said, deprecatingly. He waved a hand toward the sea. “I’m mostly self-taught. . He was wearing a new silk hat, with a slightly more generous brim than its predecessor, and it suited his type of face, robbed his dark eyes a little of their aggressiveness and gave him a solid and dignified and benevolent air.

Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOS4xMTEuMTc5IC0gMjQtMDktMjAyNCAxMjoyMDozMiAtIDE4MTk1NDIxMzE=

This video was uploaded to woodsdrivingschool.com on 23-09-2024 08:06:10

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