Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. She had never seen so much food in her life as she saw at her own wedding feast. ” “He said, ‘Poor Alice has got no end!’” “Alice’s are different,” said Ann Veronica, after an interval.
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This video was uploaded to borgodeltaglio.com on 28-06-2024 05:05:22
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