The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. ‘Where did you get that, miss?’ ‘It is the sword of monsieur le major. . I also have eyes, and I have seen the picture.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 19-09-2024 13:31:57
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