Why not? Imagine I’ve had a fit of hysteria—and that I’ve come round. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. Sheppard. 1. . . 1 through 1. But it means no end of a row. Can you lend me some stuff?” “You ARE a chap!” said Constance, and warmed only slowly from the idea of dissuasion to the idea of help. I can’t but feel it’s an undesirable complication to drag in the Charvills at this point. The brain tires of resistance, and when it meets again and again, incoherently active, the same phrases, the same ideas that it has already slain, exposed and dissected and buried, it becomes less and less energetic to repeat the operation.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjU3LjI1MSAtIDA0LTA2LTIwMjQgMjM6NTE6MTAgLSAxOTQ4OTAwNjAx
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