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Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. "Oh! nothing at all," answered Jack, sneeringly, "though this room's as much mine as yours, for that matter. Give this fellow the slip, if you can, Jack.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 18-09-2024 10:49:30
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