” She marked an hotel that seemed neither opulent nor odd in a little side street opening on the Embankment, made up her mind with an effort, and, returning by Hungerford Bridge to Waterloo, took a cab to this chosen refuge with her two pieces of luggage. ‘Rather would I die than fall in with such a plan. He can't be far off. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. “Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. It's exactly like a miniature I have in my pocket. Why do you think I’m indulging in all this very un-English love talk?’ ‘But you are idiot, Gérard. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly. “But I am at singing-pitch.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 08-09-2024 17:12:47
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