Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. Of all the entirely English women I know, you’re the only one with a French accent. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. . “I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said. I am your servitor. “Was I that bad?” He asked.
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