He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. He walked unsteadily towards the door. Parbleu, but must she do this all through the house? Evidently she must, for not only could she not properly see the paintings and portraits that hung on the walls, but she was in imminent danger of bumping into the sheet-shrouded furniture.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOC4xMi4xNTcgLSAwMS0xMC0yMDI0IDA4OjUyOjI1IC0gMTE4NTk4MDU3OA==
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 20:29:05