" At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. God, Lucy, what’s it been, how many years?” “I’m so sorry, John. ” Lord, he was right! But softly now. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 19-09-2024 02:09:18
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