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He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. "Oh! that was all, was it?" said the turnkey, quietly reseating himself. “What was that?” she asked sharply. “It’s precious unromantic. . “I am very much obliged for the tea,” she said. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 09-09-2024 18:46:26
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