‘One of they Frenchies, that’s what I say—if it ain’t a ghost. Nothing. He was so seldom wrong. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. Her eyes were wide open with amazement. Instinctively she had fallen into the posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the song.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 17-09-2024 02:38:41
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