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All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. I will light the stove, and there shall be some coffee presently. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own. ‘You have rifled his papers. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. Haven’t I shown you over and over again that I mean you no harm? What do I have to do?’ ‘You can go away and leave me to my affairs,’ she threw at him. It’s like this: You want freedom. “It’s no sort of good, Ann Veronica, pretending one does believe when one doesn’t.
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This video was uploaded to borgodeltaglio.com on 20-07-2024 10:27:35
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