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She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. Jonathan smiled contemptuously. "So did I," answered Jack; "we had better move on. ‘Very useful, of course. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father. " "That's better. I thought that you were he.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 02-10-2024 11:57:38