I suppose I believe in God. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. He is Jacques. The hills surrounded her cave home protectively. He may die. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. All that is jolly and as it should be. But she doesn’t and won’t divorce me.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 12-09-2024 16:47:00
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