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He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. ” He mumbled, driving on. ” Ennison looked steadily at the cigarette which he was tapping on his forefinger. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 30-09-2024 19:18:23