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A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. It seemed to them they could never have been really alive before, but only dimly anticipating existence.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 27-09-2024 03:08:26