Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. “You had no right—” panted Ann Veronica. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 23-09-2024 06:13:17