A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. “He means nothing!” She whispered loudly. She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire. No breakfast, he’s had no dinner, hardly a mouthful of soup— since yesterday at tea.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 09:51:46