They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. It’s these damned novels. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 12-09-2024 07:41:14
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