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"A sail?" said McClintock. He caressed her tenderly, with no trace of the Sebastian who had previously knocked her off her feet with a slap across the mouth. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. My sister made me over, you know.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 20:02:24