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But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. Me, you may have. .
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This video was uploaded to borgodeltaglio.com on 08-06-2024 01:45:09
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