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As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. ” Anna got up and looked at the mirror and then at the poster. At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 03-07-2024 11:40:01
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