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A little love from him would be enough. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. He then arose, and, taking a few turns in the chamber, stopped suddenly before her. I wonder what it was. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil.
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This video was uploaded to borgodeltaglio.com on 09-07-2024 18:47:57
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