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Tucked under the writing-table a pair of yellow and gold Turkish slippers of a highly meretricious quality caught her eye. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. Finally, at the exit into Regent’s Park, they ran against Miss Klegg. ‘What would you? The nuns they would not believe me, and so it was not possible for me to stay. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 03:43:35