Stanley, at the door. Her father—man of rock—had never needed her, whereas Hoddy, even if he did not love her, would always be needing her. “I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 23-06-2024 14:08:06
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