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His eyes never left her face. I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. Her lips parted, but no words came.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 24-09-2024 23:24:01