Neither father, aunt, nor brothers made a sign, and then one afternoon in early February her aunt came up in a state between expostulation and dignified resentment, but obviously very anxious for Ann Veronica’s welfare. My nerves are shaken. A moment before, the surface of the stream was black as ink. We felt like thieves. Husband of mine, I think we have rather overrated the emotional capacity of those—those dears.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 25-06-2024 18:20:49
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