Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. "You've ruined my hopes. Always as black and bitter as gall. "Given a chance, I can make bread and butter. But perhaps I had better get a room in an hotel to-night and look round.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 30-06-2024 15:44:32
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