” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. " "Do not distress him, dear father," said Winifred; "he suffers deeply. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 20-09-2024 15:40:50
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