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That wrappered life, as you call it—we’ve burned the confounded rags! Danced out of it! We’re stark!” “Stark!” echoed Ann Veronica. “It does nothing but sit there. I couldn’t rest or eat or sleep. “Where are they?” She looked around. She did not understand the note of hostility to men that ran through it all, the bitter vindictiveness that lit Miss Miniver’s cheeks and eyes, the sense of some at last insupportable wrong slowly accumulated.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 08:03:03