’ ‘Gracious heaven, Gerald! If your dear mama could not drag you to the altar, I am hardly likely to succeed. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. So far, however, was this submission from producing the desired effect, that it seemed only to lend additional fuel to her displeasure.
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This video was uploaded to bbdy.space on 31-05-2024 09:20:04
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