Lucy's ears were singing. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. “When you married me——” Her little hand flashed out across the table. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time.
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This video was uploaded to bbdy.space on 01-06-2024 15:49:18
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