The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. They came from every part, from the pit, the circle and the gallery, even from the stalls. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 12-09-2024 04:49:23
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