Hill sat up on the pavement and mopped the blood from his cheek. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands.
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This video was uploaded to woodsdrivingschool.com on 21-09-2024 13:12:57
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