To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video
“I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. “I remember it very well indeed. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOS4xMzYuODQgLSAzMC0wOS0yMDI0IDA3OjQxOjE3IC0gMTE4MjM1MDgzMw==
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 16:37:43