Kneebone and his friends would be glad of a little refreshment. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. “Very good,” he said. Lost from all protection, all her family dead—as are mine. Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 01-07-2024 07:27:09
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