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‘Wait a minute, though. Why don’t I just go and get the key from Pottiswick?’ Alderley flicked a glance back at him over his shoulder. She disengaged her hands and stood up. “I know. Could you just let me in? I have a surprise for him. ‘I have an excellent excuse to remain comfortably ensconced in my parlour here, able to indulge in my favourite pastime. I’m okay. ” The lights sank, the prelude to the third act was beginning, the music rose and fell in crowded intimations of lovers separated—lovers separated with scars and memories between them, and the curtain went reefing up to display Tristan lying wounded on his couch and the shepherd crouching with his pipe.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 20:01:07