It seemed to encapsulate the mosquito like a little piece of moonlight, it was talismanic to her. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. “You had no right—” panted Ann Veronica. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. They were the three most beautiful women I had ever seen. She would not let her move. It was a look that accorded very well with the hayloft setting that had come to mind.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM1LjIwMy4yMDYgLSAwOC0wNy0yMDI0IDIzOjM1OjU5IC0gMzEzMzQxNjUx
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 06-07-2024 15:18:55
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11 - Ref12
Origin resources: Resource Map: 1 - Resource Map: 2 - Resource Map: 3 - Resource Map: 4 - Resource Map: 5 - Resource Map: 6 - Resource Map: 7 - Resource Map: 8