" The tone was neutral. “You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that. ” Anna was a little puzzled, but she only laughed. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 16-09-2024 13:50:43
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