We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. There, hanging among Ann Veronica’s more normal clothing, was a skimpy dress of red canvas, trimmed with cheap and tawdry braid, and short—it could hardly reach below the knee. Nothing stronger than water has passed my lips for years. Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her. . That is my way, my dear.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 27-06-2024 21:30:57
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