She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. I don’t care if you never tell me any of your secrets. He figures them out, though. After all, I fancy that I shall have to apply for a situation as a nursery governess who understands French. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. She was dressed in a little white frock, with a very long body, and very short sleeves, which looked (from a certain fullness about the hips,) as if it was intended to be worn with a hoop. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 20-09-2024 13:43:24
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