Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other. It did not matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. I spent this afternoon in detention. Plote was sleeping or deaf. Pale, flesh-colored light filtered in through the corners of the house. She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM5Ljg1LjE2MSAtIDA2LTA4LTIwMjQgMTA6NTY6MDggLSAxNTM4NTI2MjIw
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 03-08-2024 12:38:06
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9
Origin resources: Resource Map: 1 - Resource Map: 2 - Resource Map: 3 - Resource Map: 4 - Resource Map: 5 - Resource Map: 6 - Resource Map: 7 - Resource Map: 8 - Resource Map: 9