“Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. I don't think he'll come to himself too soon. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. Slowly and ruefully she realized why marriage was so idealized among her generations of those before her. She turned there and beckoned. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 18-09-2024 18:22:33
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