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The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. Still, it was true about men. And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it.

Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNC41NC4xMzYgLSAyMy0wOS0yMDI0IDA1OjI3OjQyIC0gNDM2NDMwMjg5

This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 21-09-2024 01:03:46

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