She had pushed aside her azure veil, taken off her snow-glasses, and sat smiling under her hand at the shining glories—the lit cornices, the blue shadows, the softly rounded, enormous snow masses, the deep places full of quivering luminosity—of the Taschhorn and Dom. The blood temporarily halted to her brain, Michelle slept peacefully again. Canton at night is as much China as the border town of Lan-Chow-fu.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 21-09-2024 06:28:03
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