“I’m next, Mr. . D'ye hear. Come now, I am very glad to see you again so soon, mademoiselle whatever-your-name-is. Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. This is simply a chapter of coincidences.
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This video was uploaded to bbdy.space on 06-06-2024 16:17:16
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