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The winters were bitter here, they could have just as easily been frozen off. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. And a time will come, Veronica, mark my words, a time will come when you will bless me for my firmness to-night. And in those days, too, he used to help her mother with her gardening, and hover about her while she stood on the ladder and hammered creepers to the scullery wall.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 31-07-2024 20:00:27
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