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She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. "Disparity of rank is ever productive of unhappiness in the married state. Take me to the Stone Room. ‘I know that, miss. There was one letter. ’ ‘Very good, ma’am.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 30-09-2024 19:19:49