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“Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo. You know you don’t mean it. She addressed Anna with a beaming smile and a very creditable mixture of condescension and officiousness. “I should like to speak to you for a few minutes,” he said to Anna, dropping his voice a little. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 10:53:24