We come out into the world, some of us—” She paused. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. "But vere'll be the use o' vinnin'? you von't live to pay me.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjE3Mi4zOCAtIDI5LTA5LTIwMjQgMDE6Mzc6MTcgLSAxNjg3Mjc5Mjk2
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 15:38:37