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“His dress for no man lays a snare; A man scores always, everywhere. . Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. A crowd was collected round the fellow, who was rapidly disposing of his stock. If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper. The rest she meant to keep for her immediate necessities. The weed was all right. Ruth was something to study for future copy; she was almost unbelievable.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 24-09-2024 19:19:45